Marked
by extra-Mt
Summary: For seven months since the Seven Wonders, Cordelia Goode has been mourning the death of Misty Day. But this ends all of a sudden, when Misty shows up on the Coven's doorstep. Although unharmed and nontraumatized, she comes back with minor amnesia, and a strange mark on her neck. The following morning, Cordelia lets a strange Woman in the Coven, unaware of the consequences.
1. Chapter 1

A prompt and ideas provided by silverlightdragon.

 **A/N:** There'll be 6 chapters. I decided to publish this while writing the bananun fic at the same time. It'll make me happy if you read both ;D

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The sun rose, and Cordelia Goode told herself today would be the day she started it over. Beams of sunlight came through the lacy curtains at her large windows, bouncing off the pearl-like walls. The city of New Orleans in the early morning shimmered in the morning dew. This was the kingdom she reigned over, the kingdom she had earned and deserved.

This would be the day.

But it was a lie. Nothing more than a spell of self-deception. One month ago, at the party to celebrate the sixth month anniversary of the rebirth of the Coven, an illustrious female journalist had given her a crucial piece of advice— That lies are like scars on one's soul. That the end of such a life is self-destruction. But the Supreme contradicted, with her diplomatic smile on, that the whole opposite could be true. Not all scars are fatal. Accumulations of small scars have the ability to strengthen the damaged skin. Just like numerous horizontal scars on the inside of her left wrist made the skin there tougher, thicker. She was a young girl in her late teens, then, a victim of her own weaknesses. Not any longer.

She had a heart of iron now.

But was this also a lie? It only takes one blow of scorching air to melt iron. She stayed oblivious to this fact, to the imminent moment, until the very last minute. Her Sight could not give her any kind of premonitions. She spent her afternoon in the greenhouse all the same.

There was a tiny space in the corner of the herbal kingdom. Six flowerpots of white Orchids. The flowers there had no academic purposes, and the Supreme did not allow anyone to touch them under any circumstances. It was her shrine of mourning, dedicated to her fallen sister. Misty Day. Since her sudden passing, Cordelia had added one flowerpot to the shrine every monthly anniversary.

And it was when she was preparing the seventh pot that the fateful moment came.

The voices of the girls became loud all of a sudden outside the greenhouse. Cordelia found it peculiar. The greenhouse stood in the back of the academy building, rather isolated from everything else on the property. And as an unspoken rule, the girls avoided to play around the area. So, when the voices penetrated the walls and reached her ears, it rose a mingled feeling of alarm and annoyance in her. Her hands stopped. Among the yelling, she heard her name shouted, and the annoyance vanished into thin air.

She strode to the exit, a bad feeling deep in her chest. Accidents were part of daily life at the Coven. The Supreme and the council handled them with expert calmness and efficiency. But not once in the last seven months had anyone yelled her name with such hysteria. The last time it happened was before the Seven Wonders, under Marie Laveau's attack, on the Halloween night. This time, however, the Coven did not have an unexpected visit by zombies or voodoo witches.

The moment her hand touched the doorknob, the door swung open. Cordelia's heart jumped at the sudden movement, and at the sight of a person standing just right on the other side of it. Her dirt-covered hand rose to her chest. A gasp escaped her rose lips. Then, she heard a chuckle.

"Sorry, Miss Cordelia, I didn't mean ta scare you." The youthful voice had a mischievous tone.

Cordelia raised her eyes, feeling fooled by her own ears. But it was all true. The bright smile of a girl greeted her, and Cordelia's hands flew to her mouth. No word came out.

The voices of other girls grew closer. Within seconds, a flock of girls, Queenie and Zoe at the front, surrounded the two of them. Everything fell into a bizarre pit of silence, mingled with confusion.

Even then, the grin on the face of Misty Day radiated utmost joy.

ooOooOoo

The seventh flowerpot remained on the greenhouse table, flower-less.

The entire Coven gathered in the Ancestors Room that evening, with the heat of the summer afternoon lingering in the air. The center of the crowd sat Misty. The girls, except for the old members of the academy, only knew about the wild blonde from the few stories Cordelia had allowed herself to tell. Until this afternoon, Misty Day had existed, to them, as a mere concept. An urban legend. So, nobody could really blame them for their reactions.

Stimulated by timid curiosity, they flooded the room to get a glimpse of the mysterious necromancer, and possibly to get acquainted with her. It was as though Misty was a lioness in the safari park.

Cordelia watched them from a distance, standing by the grand piano. From there, she could barely see the top of Misty's head. Her mind raced with thoughts.

"It just feels surreal, doesn't it?" Zoe came to stand next to her. "After all these months, she just shows up as if nothing has happened. She had no shoes on, you know, just like when she first came here."

But the sweet memory could not loosen up the muscles between Cordelia's eyebrows. "Did you ask how she came back?" she asked.

"We did. But she asked where you were, and just ran straight to the greenhouse."

From between the girls' heads, Misty's face peeked sometimes. Everytime that happened, her eyes never failed to lock with the Supreme's.

"She's smiling," the Supreme said, almost to herself.

"Yeah, and she ate a whole lot." Zoe's voice had an optimistic air. "Look at her, she's so full of life."

Cordelia remained silent, her eyes on the pinkness in Misty's cheeks. She was in shock. A trance state, where her senses remained perfect, but she lacked the capability to entertain an emotion. She had difficulty wrapping her head around this whole affair. The only thing she knew, though, was that none of the Coven had imagined to have Misty back like this, so out of the blue.

Zoe rested an understanding hand on her shoulder. "It's about time we rescued her, don't you think? She must be getting tired. She needs a bed, and some quiet alone time." She gave a wink, left the baffled Supreme, and walked up to the crowd.

Despite her effort, however, she seemed to struggle for some moments to get the girls' attention. Her waving hands and shouts went ignored in the herd of excited teenagers and younger children. At that moment, some girl pointed at Misty's neck. "What does your tattoo mean?" she said.

Now, it became the only thing the girls cared about. Misty remained in the seat, with blankness on her face. The little girl kept pointing at said tattoo, showing others. Their curiosity grew so strong, so blind, that some of them even dared to lift Misty's wild curls off her neck for a better view.

There was a boundary, and it was that boundary they had crossed. Although the wild blonde herself didn't seem to mind, the gesture vexed Cordelia. She walked up to them, with a full intention to yank Misty out of the crowd if necessary. But, as the crowd parted before her, the target for their crazed curiosity came into view.

On the pale skin just below Misty's left ear, there was a mark, a little bigger than a quarter. Cordelia had never seen it before, not that she'd seen every inch of Misty's body. But the mark radiated some sort of mystic energy. One had to be literally blind to miss it.

.

Although with a sense of puzzlement, the Supreme managed to retreat for the night with the wild blonde. Unshakable apprehension dominated her mind, and she stood in the corner of her own bedroom, arms crossed in front of her chest. She watched the girl move about the big room.

The ringed fingers of Misty slid along any surface within reach. A nostalgic grin lit up her face. Her attention flew from one thing to another, just in a way one might do in her own house after a long period of absence. Nothing seemed wrong with Misty, as far as the Supreme could tell. Still, the sight of great joy wasn't enough to convince her.

The Cajun remained oblivious to the trouble of the other woman, and let herself sink in the bed at last. Her long arms hugged a pillow, as she pressed her cheek into it. She thrashed her legs, letting loose content murmurs.

Their eyes met, then.

Redness appeared in Misty's cheeks. She sat up, facing Cordelia, with a meek, guilty smile. "Sorry. Got carried away a bit," she said. "Been forever since I last slept in this bed." She placed the assaulted pillow back in its right place.

That, at last, thawed the rigidness of the Supreme's expression. "No apologies. I'm just so relieved that you are yourself." She sat in the bed, at a safe distance. "Do you need sleep?"

Misty shook her head. "Ain't sleepy at all. It's like, my body clock is messed up pretty bad. Like after you flew on an airplane. Never been on one before, but it must feel like this." Some sarcastic chuckles escaped her lips. "Who knew hell and airplanes had something in common, huh?"

Cordelia only gave a stiff smile in return. It felt odd, almost inappropriate, to talk about _it_ so soon, with such lightness. But at the same time, part of her appreciated the girl's lack of reserve.

"I have many questions," Cordelia said.

"Ask away."

"How did you get out? What happened? Do you know how long it has been? Are you—"

Misty chuckled again, and rested her hands on the shoulders of the Supreme. "One at a time, Miss Cordelia. I ain't gonna turn inta mist."

The woman felt heat between her eyes. She forced out a laugh, though, at the awful pun, and at the the absurdity of herself. And she spent a moment to relish the weight of Misty on her shoulders. They hadn't felt each other's warmth until now.

"Tomorrow was going to be your seven month anniversary," she said, in a quieter voice. "I've been trying to save you."

"I know. I felt it everyday, every second."

"But I failed you. I failed you during the Seven Wonders, and failed you again even after your—" Cordelia swallowed. She couldn't let herself utter the word. "You must despise me."

The girl's hands lowered, to connect their hands in a fine grip. "Miss Cordelia, tell me how ta hate the awesomest person in the world, because I don't know how. I fought for you, in my hell. I knew you were blaming yourself."

"How did you get out, then?"

Here, for the first time, Misty frowned. She dropped her gaze to her lap, as she shrugged. "Can't remember," she said. "It's all blank."

"You mean you don't remember anything?"

"No, I remember being in hell. It was the biology class in ma high school. But, it stopped, and when I realized, I was standing in the middle o' the swamp. I just knew I had ta go back to you." Then, her cheeks became red at once. "To the Coven, I mean. You— Yeah, you are big part of the Coven, is what I meant. God, it's a hot night, isn't it?" She fidgeted, still blushing.

It would've made the Supreme blush just as hard, if her attention hadn't been elsewhere. But her eyes saw the way Misty's hand rose to her own neck. She saw the tattoo under the palm, and saw nothing else.

"Is that when you got that tattoo?" Cordelia asked. "Do you remember how you got it?"

"Oh . . . No, I don't." Misty's hand remained there on the neck, and began to pick at the skin. "I saw it in the mirror. It doesn't look like anything I've ever seen."

"Let me take a look." Cordelia scooted closer, until their knees nearly touched each other. She brushed the thick blonde curls away, mindful not to let her hand touch the neck. Her eyes squinted at the tattoo. "It looks like," she said, "a birthmark, rather than a tattoo. A bruise. But it has a distinctive shape."

"It looks like a symbol or something," Misty said.

"It does. An ancient rune, maybe. Hold on—" The Supreme twisted her body at the waist, and reached out for her smartphone on the nightstand. "Let me take a picture. Could you hold your hair?"

Misty obeyed, and tilted her head even more for the camera. The loud sound of the shutter echoed in the room twice, back to back. She flinched a little. Then, they sat side by side, as they examined the pictures.

"Amnesia itself isn't really a problem," the Supreme said. "It should've been expected after spending months in another realm. But this . . ." She looked at Misty's face. "Does it hurt?"

"No, but it's kinda hot." The Cajun again pressed her hand to the skin. "Not that it irritates me, though. I like it, actually. It's comfortable heat, like sitting in front o' a fireplace in winter."

With a soft smile, Cordelia put down her phone. "Let's do a little research tomorrow, to see what it could mean. Queenie must be able to help us."

As Misty gave a positive nod, they fell quiet. The singing of cicadas and crickets came in through the open windows. There was a strong blow of the summer breeze, and the curtains waved with velvety flutter. The wind touched the tip of Misty's curls, too. The sight of it mesmerized the Supreme.

"Miss Cordelia?"

Cordelia looked up, and found those affable eyes looking into hers.

"I said I ain't sleepy yet," the girl said, "but can I cuddle you? It's— It's hot, so I get it if—"

"Of course, you can." Cordelia forced a smile, as she bottled up half of her enthusiasm. Her heart began to pound at once.

She lay down, on her side of the bed, and welcomed the Cajun into her arms. Through her nightgown, she felt the heat of Misty, and the whole weight of her. The wild curls tickled her chin and neck, as Misty buried her face in her neck. The Supreme couldn't help the urge to caress the curls, and to twist a strand around her fingers, the way she used to do. It felt like finally coming home.

I missed this." Misty heaved a sigh into her neck.

Cordelia answered with a quiet hum.

"Miss Cordelia?"

Cordelia hummed again.

The girl's arms tighten around her waist. "If it was all for you, hell was worth it," she said, in a delicate voice.

The Supreme regretted not turning the lights off immediately. All of the heat of the summer night gathered in her face, in her neck. But despite the heat, she pulled Misty even closer, until no space separated their bodies. And when the Cajun responded with an equally strong hug, her heart swelled, and shattered at the same time.

"I'm not that worthy," she said next to Misty's ear, too quietly.

ooOooOoo

 **Day 2**

During the morning council meeting, Cordelia felt blatant, almost intrusive eagerness from Zoe and Queenie. They maintained their professionalism, though, and reported necessary information to the Supreme with straight faces. So, she did the same, acting as though it was just another day at the Coven.

But at the end of the meeting, the two council members went back to being two young girls.

"So, about Misty. . ." Zoe still kept up her professional pretense. "Do you want to give her a roommate, or just a room to herself, or, you know, let her sleep in your room?"

"Which is exactly what you did last night," Queenie said. Unlike the brunette, she didn't seem to care about her intrusiveness.

Codelia opened her mouth for self-defense. Outside the office, the doorbell rung, catching their attention for a moment.

"We don't really have any room left at the moment," Zoe said, "so, if you two don't mind, sharing the master bedroom will be nice."

"You did share your room before, right?" Queenie said. "After I came back from Marie and reclaimed my room? It'll be a win-win situation to be honest."

Cordelia bit her lip. She knew she'd blush if this intrusive interrogation continued. "I _will_ talk to Misty to see what she needs." Then she opened the laptop in front of her. "The meeting's over. You may go now."

Even with her eyes trained on the screen, she didn't miss when the girls rolled their eyes at each other. But her mouth remained shut, her posture rigid, as she spent an eternity waiting for them to walk out. The door closed, at last. Her shoulders relaxed at the clicking of it. A long sigh escaped her lips. She sank in her chair, thinking about the Cajun in her bed.

She'd only slept a little last night, three hours at most. The loud pulsation of her heart had kept her wide awake. And Misty's soft breath on her neck caused her eyes to open too early in the morning.

She'd come to realize, in her sleep-deprived state, that peaceful sleep would never come to her, with Misty in her arms. And at the same moment, she found herself disregarding sleep completely, without a second thought.

She yawned in her seat, stretching like a cat. There came knocks on the door, then. Two gentle taps.

"You have a visitor, Miss Cordelia," Kyle said from behind the door.

It left her baffled for a moment. Although they did have unexpected visitors from time to time, nobody liked to step into the Coven of cranky witches so early in the morning. Cordelia yawned once more, patted her hair, and invited the person in.

Then, through the open door walked in a woman. A handsome woman, about as old as the Supreme herself, in a tight, long black dress. Her blonde hair was put up in a simple manner, but with the elegance of a royal. The black high heels clicked against the marble floor in a confident stride. Bold earrings swayed, the black jewels shimmering in the light. As she walked past the Supreme, her musky perfume filled her nose.

Cordelia had never seen her before. No word had yet to come out of the Woman's mouth, but the domineering atmosphere of her already gave the Supreme unnerving sensations. Inexplicable feelings, but not unfamiliar. It reminded her of someone else.

"Cordelia Goode, the headmistress." She gestured to the chair in front of her desk, as she herself sat down. "How may I assist you today, miss?"

The Woman, however, kept wandering about the room, studying the ornaments. "No need for the formality, Miss Goode. I'm not one of your students' parent." Her voice had an equally dominant depth.

Cordelia noticed her own body shrinking at it. She straightened her back. "I see. May I ask, then, what has brought you here this morning?"

"Oh, I'm just here to have my puppy back. I know she's here. I let her off the leash yesterday, knowing she won't be in any danger." She let out a delicate sigh, as she tilted her face up in a rather theatrical way. "But I've grown awfully lonely without her."

Cordelia shifted in her seat, confused. "I'm afraid you're looking in the wrong place. Some of our students might have cats and birds, but that's the only animals here."

Then, the dark eyes of the Woman looked at her for the first time. The smile grew wider. Her exceptional beauty possessed something very threatening, something revolting. Cordelia had felt this way before.

"You're mistaken," the Woman said. "I'm not looking for some dirty dog. She's a fine, pure-bred Cajun with the most exquisite golden mane."

Cordelia grimaced, at which the Woman laughed.

"I'm positive it rings a bell."

At that moment, the door of the office opened with a quiet creak. The Supreme found Misty putting her head around the door. Those curious eyes locked with Cordelia's. But soon, they flew to the other person standing on the other side of the room. Her whole face lit up at once, and she ran, exhilarated like a real dog, into the open arms of the Woman.

The Supreme stood up. She didn't know what to do with herself, though, and kept watching the scene as it unfolded before her.

"Where have you been? I've been waiting for you," the Cajun said. She nuzzled into the Woman's neck, just exactly how she had in Cordelia's embrace the night before.

The Woman raised her gloved hand, stroking the head of blonde curls. "I wanted to give you some time to spend with Miss Goode. I'm sure you had fun last night?"

Misty nodded with a full-blown smile. It disappeared in a flash, however, as though struck by a sudden realization. Her eyes travelled between the Woman and the Supreme. They had a faint color of guilt.

"Sorry. Did I interrupt your conversation?"

"No, it's alright, puppy," the Woman said. "I was just telling Miss Goode that I've come for you."

Misty blushed. And the shade of red grew even more evident, when she took notice of Cordelia's gaze.

The Woman cupped the red cheek with her hand. "So, are you ready to go back to the swamp, or do you wish to stay here a little longer?"

The Cajun glanced at Cordelia again. The same coyness embellished her lips. "I wanna stay," she said to the Woman.

"Excellent. It's decided, then." The Woman's eyes returned to Cordelia. "I'll borrow the guest room, if you don't mind, Miss Goode. This would be fun. I've always wanted an opportunity to see the wonderful work of my successor."

Cordelia could only blink, as the abrupt acknowledgement from the Woman pulled her out of the invisibility she was starting to get used to. But only the first part of the sentence made sense to her. She looked at Misty, by instinct, asking for elaboration. And even in the silence, the girl understood the question.

"Ursula is the first Supreme o' the Coven," she said, shining with boundless pride. "The beginning of us all."

ooOooOoo

The Supreme gave the Woman the guest room, the one at the far end of the east wing, far from the master bedroom. Misty moved her belongings, one box of clothes and a cassette player, to the room, without any hesitation or remorse. Her eyes shone, her steps light. The bright smile put a crack in Cordelia's heart.

What's more, the girls began to talk about the Woman and Misty. To them, Misty was still a person of mystery, and the next day came another enigmatic woman, of extreme beauty. It certainly fanned their flames of curiosity. Within an hour, the academy heard nothing but the rumors about those two. Tons of nonsense, in Cordelia's opinion.

The greenhouse was the only place safe from this idiocy, a literal shelter for Cordelia's wounded heart. She focused on her experiments, and tried to think about nothing else. But the conceited face of the Woman would flash before her eyes every ten seconds, and her world grew darker each time. She ground leaves in a mortar with crushing force.

"Are you conjuring up a potion to kill someone?"

Cordelia jumped at the voice. She turned her head around, and there Queenie stood at the corner of the table. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You taught me before that alchemy is all about the intention," the Voodoo doll said. "The effect of a potion depends on not just the ingredients, but also the intention. And now, you looked like you wanted to murder someone."

"That's ridiculous."

"You were grinding whatever it is for at least five minutes, not even noticing when I came in." Queenie sounded more concerned than mocking.

Cordelia knew how uncharacteristic it was of her. "You were watching me for five minutes?"

Queenie let out a sigh. "Can we talk about Misty and the Woman? I know you were thinking about them."

Cordelia's grip on the pestle tightened.

"They don't even try to hide anything from anyone," the Voodoo doll said. "They don't seem to see anyone else. PDA everywhere they go. The girls are beyond hysterical, as if they are witnessing royal romance or some shit. They don't listen to the teachers in class— Who is she? What is she to Misty?"

"Her name is Ursula Knares." Codelia kept her gaze on the mortar. "She claims to be the First Supreme. I don't know anything else."

"Whoa, the First Supreme? Literally?" The Voodoo doll snickered. "What kind of bullshit is that? And why is Misty so . . ." She waved her hand in front of her face, searching for a proper word.

"I don't know."

"Do you know she calls Misty her puppy?"

"Yes, I do know. Thanks." Cordelia felt her brows knit tighter than ever. If this torture continued, her head would explode. "Could you leave me alone, please, if you don't have anything else? I need to finish this potion."

A flame of frustration burned inside her chest. And with her tendency to internalize her suffering, the Supreme felt a grueling temptation to cry at the same time. She couldn't breathe. Her sight was getting narrower. Nothing made sense to her.

Queenie gave a look of great pity. She didn't dare to speak, let alone continue with this cursed subject.

The moment the Voodoo doll walked out, Cordelia sank in her chair. Her hands shook, as she buried her head in them. There was a quivering in her bottom lip. In the dizzying haze of bitterness, mostly towards her own weakness, she admitted Queenie was right about the potion. It had to be made again. The paste in the mortar had changed its color, from fine green to decaying brown. The liquid in the beaker next to it fizzed with impurities, negative elements in the atmosphere. She grabbed both the beaker and the mortar, and shambled her way to the sink.

Then, she heard something outside the greenhouse, some voices. It wasn't Queenie.

The wooden door opened. The ear-to-ear smile of Misty appeared, and the Woman trailed behind her. They walked in, hand in hand, like some highschool sweethearts.

"Hiya, Miss Cordelia. Can I show Ursula around?"

Of course, the sun-like brightness of the Cajun made it impossible for Cordelia to refuse. Even when it shone for someone else, even when that someone had robbed her of joy, it still bewitched her, made her dizzy with adoration.

"Absolutely," Cordelia said, with a stiff smile. "Just, make sure to wear gloves if you want to touch any plant. Some of them are very—"

"Very poisonous, I know. You were always sayin' that." The girl chuckled, and pulled Ursula into the room lit by purple lights.

The eyes of the Supreme followed the two. Her heart wavered with two conflicting emotions. Part of her wanted to be content with Misty's happiness. The other part couldn't stand it. She wanted to smile at all of the memories shared with Misty, untouched by anybody else. But those memories were all she had. Now, the Woman not only invaded her sanctuary, but she also forced Cordelia to watch the girl make more memories with someone else. And Cordelia could do nothing but to stand by the sink, with her dirty experiment apparatus. Misty's laughter came from the secluded room. Cordelia wondered if she ever had the right to feel so heartbroken, so humiliated.

The lovers walked to the other side of the greenhouse, then. Misty pointed at plants as she went, recounting things that the Supreme had taught her. Ursula only responded with hums once in a while. Although her red lip curled into a gentle smile, Cordelia saw quite evident arrogance. It turned her stomach.

Misty picked up a watering can, and started to water plants. Stevie's songs flowed from her mouth. Some drops of water slid off the glossy leaves, and spattered the floor at their feet. It turned the smirk of the Woman into an annoyed grimace.

"Be mindful of your surroundings, darling," she said, as she took a step away from the puddle. "I can't have germ-infested water on my heels."

The Cajun murmured an apology with a meek grin. She returned to her task. "Oh hey, I've never seen these guys before," she said. In the corner, she crouched down in front of the cluster of flowerpots. The shrine. Her eyes found the Supreme across the room. "They are mighty pretty, Miss Cordelia. Why are they hidden in the corner?"

Cordelia hesitated, and remained speechless without a plausible excuse. But the silence rendered her defenseless, when Ursula began to speak.

"They are Orchids. The white color symbolizes innocence and purity. They seemed to be intentionally separated from other plants, and the pots are of exquisite design, not like the other mass-produced ones from a retailing hypermarket. They are special, quite so." The Woman gave Cordelia a sweet smile.

"What's so special about 'em, Miss Cordelia?"

"Well, let's see," Ursula said on behalf of the Supreme. "There are six pots, and another similar one on the table. Only, that one is empty. My observation is that she bought the pot, but decided not to plant an Orchid in it. Am I correct, Miss Goode?"

The Supreme looked down. The little child within her trembled in fear and mortification.

The Woman let out a laugh. Her gloved hand landed on the head of Misty at her feet. "Do you know, puppy, that Orchids are a flower for mourning."

"Mourning?"

"Perhaps, Miss Goode has been grieving for the passing of someone she adored. Who could that be? Let's play a guessing game. You had never seen these flowers in this place before, which means Miss Goode paid the first tribute after your departure. This one seems to be a little younger than the rest, and there was going to be a new one. I assume Miss Goode added one pot to the collection monthly." She then arched her brow at Cordelia. "I'd say this is a shrine dedicated to my puppy, or are my assumptions too wild?"

All of this speech came out without a pause, or even a hint of self-doubt. It was as though the Woman had been here the whole time, since the beginning of Cordelia's suffering. Her eyes glinted with a sadistic light. The Supreme trembled harder, blushed harder, for the revealed secret.

"Is that true, Miss Cordelia?" Misty stood up, and looked at her with a humble smile. But that very look of innocence made it even more humiliating for the Supreme.

Ursula laughed again. "No need for such coyness, Miss Goode. Indeed, I find it quite noble of you to mourn the death of your _friend_."

The arrogant tone of the last word pierced through the haze of misery. The beaker in her hand cracked under the increasing pressure. She watched, from under her twitching brows, as the Woman stroked Misty's cheek with the back of her hand.

"Do you know the meaning the flower has in such occasions, my girl? ' _I will always love—'_ "

"That's enough," Cordelia said, glaring at her hands. Her throat felt like it was on fire. Even then, the little girl in her kept her from shouting in indignation. She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. "I see that you are a very knowledgeable person, but all of what you said isn't correct. They are not a tribute to anybody." The world around her began to buzz. She had to hold onto the edge of the sink, as the beginning of nausea hit her.

"I do need to apologize, then," Ursula said. "I must admit to excessive avidity for proving myself to you, Miss Goode. But it was unseemly of me, and I failed quite miserably. Botany isn't my speciality, if I may make an excuse."

"What's your speciality?" Misty said.

"Oh, it's nothing." The Woman waved a dismissive, mock-humble hand. "Geometry, arithmetic, handicrafts, and what else . . . just simple astronomy."

Misty turned her head to the Supreme, twinkling her blue eyes, as though to share her wonderment with her.

It made the Supreme feel more inferior, ugly with envy. The potions she attempted to make afterwards all turned disgusting black.

ooOooOoo

A summer shower began to patter against the windows of the master bedroom later that night. Cordelia sat in her bed, preparing for a sleepless night before she even made any attempt. The book she'd been meaning to finish for weeks now rested on her lap. This would be her midnight companion, probably for the next several days. Still, she had been reading the same paragraph over and over again, and couldn't seem to turn the page. Between each word, between each line, she saw the faces of Misty and Ursula. And the wider her Cajun smiled in her mind, the more acute the pain in Cordelia's chest became. Even when she looked up from the book, the same faces haunted her.

She rubbed her eyes. It was not the lack of sleep that troubled her, but it was the emptiness of her king-sized bed, the coldness in the other side of it. The memory of Misty's warmth remained vivid in her arms, in her mind, on her skin. It drove her insane.—Had this memory been a mere dream, one of the countless desperate dreams she'd had before, then she could've cried a little and given up. But the Cajun was here, under the same roof. Despite the distance between their rooms, Cordelia thought she'd heard Misty's laughter.

Then, someone knocked on the door. Although the desire to fake sleep crept across her mind, the Supreme answered eventually. Misty walked in.

"Came to say goodnight," the girl said, sauntering to the edge of the bed.

"Goodnight, Misty."

This didn't end the visit, however, as Misty fidgeted on the spot. She nibbled on her lip, shifted her gaze between the Supreme and the book, and at last, sat on the bed.

"I missed you, Miss Cordelia. Sorry I couldn't really talk ta you today."

Words failed Cordelia, too stunned for such an unexpected confession. She took off her glasses, but not knowing why she did it, she put them back on. And when the Cajun's words sank in, bitterness spread inside her, rotting her heart. Not a single nice thing to say came to her mind. She closed the book, and put it on the nightstand.

"Are you angry with me?" Misty said.

The Supreme couldn't meet her eyes. "No."

"Are you angry with Ursula?"

This one, she couldn't answer.

"I know she can be a li'l pushy. She didn't leave you a choice when she decided ta stay here. And we bothered you during your experiment in the greenhouse. But— She's super kind at heart, and the smartest I know."

"How long have you known her?" Cordelia said, with a squeezing in the heart.

The Cajun thought about it, and grimaced. "Why's that matter?"

"Do you not remember? Do you remember where you two first met, then?"

The grimace grew deeper. "It didn't matter with us. You became my closest friend even though I'd only known you for a couple o' weeks. Why should it be different for Ursula?"

Cordelia bit her lip, looking down. Her bitterness got the best of her, and with it she was pushing the girl away, almost intentionally. There was a vague idea in her, that she'd rather be happy without the Cajun, than to be miserable watching her happy with someone else.

But then, despite her fear, she felt Misty scoot closer and take her hands. "I didn't come to argue with you," she said. "It makes me real sad. I wanna talk ta you like last night."

"I'm sorry."

"Can I sleep here tonight, too?" Misty didn't let go of her hands. "Ursula said she wouldn't care which room I spend the night in."

So, just like last night, they lay in each other's arms. But the shadow of self-doubt, and all sorts of negative thoughts kept pestering Corelia through the night. They kept her awake, on the brink of silent tears. This was exactly what she had desired for, but not _how_ she had wanted it. Although she got to twist a strand of the wild curls around her finger, it couldn't have happened without Ursula's permission. She had an inkling that this would be the way from now on, her happiness depending solely on the Woman.

And Cordelia prepared herself again. Not for a sleepless night, but the real warmth that would leave her in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** just for those wondering, I had Countess Elizabeth from Hotel on my mind when I wrote Ursula. Only the look, though. But you get the general idea :) thanks for reading, y'all

* * *

 **Day 3**

Even with her eyes closed, Cordelia knew she'd woken up alone. She had predicted it. She had fallen asleep with the heartache, and woke up with the heartache. And with the heartache, she got up and dressed herself for another day. It was easy, if she told herself she was back to the grieving days, if she convinced herself that her beloved Cajun still suffered in hell. Then she had only herself to blame.

In the living room, Kyle brought the mail in for her. She sorted it out, as she took a sip of black coffee. Then, her drowsy eyes shifted to the boy, who still stood there, looking at her with bizarre bashfulness.

"Are you," he said, scratching his head, "going to the greenhouse after this to water your plants?"

"That's the plan."

"Maybe, you should wait a little, or I could water them later for you."

The reluctance in the boy's speech baffled Cordelia. But, it only took another moment for her to catch on.

"They're in there, aren't they?" the Supreme asked, but only received a timid silence. She sighed. The repulsion tasted bitterer with the coffee. "Well, that place is mine. I will not have them making me want to stay away from there."

So, when she finished her light breakfast and tossed the unnecessary flyers into the recycle bin, she went through the backdoor in the kitchen, to the greenhouse. The remnants of the last night's shower clung to the lawn. Small puddles twinkled in the little pathway. She jumped over some. There was no wind, but the cool temperature caressed her bare legs, making her shiver. The brick walls of the greenhouse came into view. She heard, in the chirping of early birds, some laughter of a human. She didn't stop. The familiar melodic chuckles grew closer, but no other voice came to her.

 _Maybe, she's by herself, dancing to Stevie,_ Cordelia thought.

And with that optimistic feeling, the Supreme opened the door just a crack, and peeped in. Only the rays of the purple lights lit the room. She heard no music. No one was dancing. She put her head a little deeper around the door, for a better view. Then, the moment her eyes at last caught the shadows at the table, one of them let out another sound. And another. Not chuckles, but moans.

Cordelia ran back to the academy building. Along the way, she stepped into a puddle, splashing the dirty water about. It got into her shoe, and produced uncomfortable quacking sounds as she walked. Kyle and Zoe saw her wretched appearance in the kitchen. Zoe gave a questioning look, while the boy looked at her with sympathy. But Cordelia said nothing, and ran straight to her office.

ooOooOoo

Of course, nothing got done in the office, as the Supreme sat in her chair, with her head buried in her hands. The sound kept ringing in her ears, like a broken record. And everytime a moan echoed in her ears, the purple lights grew brighter in her mind. The shadows grew more apparent, more recognizable. The moan echoed again, and the figure on the table turned her head around to the door, the lights showered on the wild curls. Misty moaned out the Woman's name. It nearly pushed the Supreme over the edge of sanity. Although she tried to drown it out with loud music, it didn't work. Sleep didn't save her, either. Nothing allowed her to actually run away from it.

About two hours she wasted making such fruitless attempts. Then, as she lay in the couch, and stared at the ceiling, Ursula walked in without a knock. Cordelia sat up.

"Oh, please, no need to get up," the Woman said. She strode to the couch, and sat beside her.

The Supreme stood up immediately, heading back for the desk. "How could I help you? I'm sort of occupied at the moment."

The Woman chuckled. She crossed her legs, as she lit a cigarette with a lighter.

"You can't smoke in here."

"I won't be long. I simply came to apologize, Miss Goode, for this morning. I would've come with my girl, for we are equally at fault, but she's sound asleep in my bed."

Cordelia's heart stopped for a moment, but she didn't dare show it. "What do you mean?"

"What you saw in the greenhouse this morning, of course. That darling puppy is truly fond of that place. I fail to see the appeal, but what could I have said? She begged me to go there with her." White cigarette smoke escape her red lips. "The plants are properly watered, not to worry."

The Supreme blushed at once. With the cursed image of the affair harassing her, it hadn't occur to her that they might have caught her. But once the Woman presented the idea, it occupied every single corner of her mind.

"Oh, how you blush!" Ursula laughed. "Why, I think you're very adorable. How old are you now, you said? Not so much older than everybody here, are you?" She stood up, and walked about with her long legs. "And yet, you are the head of the Coven, the one to give them guidance. I heard it was your mother until very recently."

And the Woman talked more, as she filled the room with her haughty air and cigarette smoke. Both exacerbated Cordelia's headache. The Woman threw a question to her every now and then, but didn't seem interested in getting answers. She was like a straight man, with a pathological level of self-absorption. The Supreme knew two people in her life just like that.

"Who are you?" Cordelia said, at last.

Ursula stopped talking, and looked at her with a raised brow. "I thought I'd told you, Miss Goode. The first Supreme, your predecessor, the very origin of your kind."

"How are any of us supposed to believe that? We have a long history, and even the earliest record we have, the Salem witch trial, happened more than 300 years ago. That has to make you—"

"More than 300 years old," Ursula said, showing her white teeth. "More than 500 years old, in fact."

"That's impossible."

"Why? How come it is such an inconceivable idea for you?" The Woman came closer to her, until the Supreme could see the dark hues of her eyes. "You have met Marie Lavau, haven't you? I heard that the little voodoo girl is now stuck in hell with her slave from the French soil. It's a tragedy, but you do get my point. Eternal life isn't of fantasy."

Cordelia didn't dare move away. She felt that the moment she did, it would be her defeat. "What do you want from Misty? What did you do to her?" Her voice came out gut-deep.

"I simply pulled her out of her misery. You think I put her under some spell, but that's a false accusation. She has a free will. All I did was to do what you failed to do, saving her from hell."

Codelia bit the quivering of her lip away. "If what you say about yourself is true, then it should be a piece of cake for you to control her without taking away her sanity and will."

"I'm delighted you believe in my story."

"I never said that."

Ursula clicked her tongue several times in rapid succession. "A very funny girl you are, Miss Goode. Tell me, what would do you, if your assumptions were correct?" The sadistic mischief in the Woman's eyes gave a glint. "At the end of the day, it is her that decides what she wants. And last night, she chose you."

ooOooOoo

The conversation with the Woman only deepened Cordelia's mistrust and disgust. There was not a single fiber of her being willing to give Ursula a benefit of doubt. The Woman was a serpent, her fangs flashing at the neck of a rabbit. Yet, the Supreme didn't have an absolute conviction of her intention, aim, how perilous she actually could be, or how imminent the danger could be. The only thing clear in the eyes of the Supreme was that this repulsion was instinctual, rather than a conscious choice. Just like animals avoided bright-colored bugs by instinct.

But in spite of this apprehension, the duties as the Supreme and the headmistress of the Coven interfered. The amount of work was increasing by the minute, as she had essentially slacked off earlier. She had no time to run a background check on Ursula.

Her alarm went off a few hours later, letting her know it was lunch time. She closed her laptop, and walked out of the office with a headache. The air in the house felt repugnant for some reasons. The whole academy sounded loud. The reeling of her head spread to her neck now, and she contemplated going back to her office and eating later, while the girls were in class.

As she reached the staircase, Zoe came running into her at the corner. Her chest heaved, her cheeks flushing, as though she had just sprinted up the flight of stairs, forgetting about her power of Transmutation.

"Zoe, what happened?"

The brunette pulled her by the hand. "Misty and Queenie are fighting."

"Where?"

"In the kitchen. You gotta come."

As soon as the Supreme heard this, she transmuted both of them to the part of the house. Ugly yelling at once greeted her, and then, the sight of the two witches en garde.

"If I'd known how stupid you are, I would've left you in the goddamn coffin." Queenie, with her arms crossed in front of her chest, scowled at Misty.

The Cajun's face became redder. "Shut up! You only listened ta Miss Cordelia! You didn't do shit!"

Kyle held the girl back from behind. He winced everytime her swinging arms or kicking legs hit him. Some girls stood around them in fear, but also with morbid curiosity.

Cordelia stepped between the two. "Enough! What is wrong with you two, turning against each other like that in front of the girls?"

"She insulted Ursula," Misty said through her clenched teeth. "All Ursula did was ta ask for something other than seafood, and Queenie started calling her names."

Cordelia's eyes travelled to the dishes of seafood on the table, to the Woman—Cordelia hadn't noticed her presence until then—leaning against the kitchen counter, and to Queenie.

The Voodoo doll didn't seem remorseful even a bit. "Do you know what's not seafood? My shit. She can eat that. You're a stone fool if you think that Woman" —She jerked her chin at Ursula without looking— "is welcome here. Wake up. She's a parasite, and you're just her host."

"She ain't a parasite! Take it back! Apologize!" The Cajun escaped Kyle's restraint, and charged at Queenie.

It didn't give Cordelia enough time, or the luxury of choice, to think with her heart. She bound Misty with invisible shackles, before her ringed fingers could touch the dark skin of Queenie's neck. Her ankles together, and her wrists behind her. A heavy thud echoed, as the Cajun fell on the floor, face down. The girl whined and writhed.

For a moment, Cordelia felt extreme resentment towards herself, her decision. But the rational part of her pushed her sentimentality aside, and she regained her composure. "Girls, go back to your room," she said to the spectators. "If you haven't eaten yet, you have my permission to take the food to your room today." Then, she knelt down by the still struggling Cajun, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Misty, if you want to be let go, you have to promise not to hurt Queenie."

Misty groaned, and continued to thrash about. Her eyes shimmered with tears, as she glared up at the Supreme out of the corner of her eye.

It was when the Woman came closer to them. "You have to listen to your headmistress, puppy."

And with the simple command, Misty calmed down at once. She gave Cordelia a nod, though not without a sob. The shackles vanished at a wave of the Supreme's hand, then. The Cajun stood up in a blazing silence. A trail of tears trickled down her cheek, as she glared at Queenie with vindictive hatred. She took slow steps backwards, like a wounded animal. Then, all of a sudden, she turned around, and ran back into the arms of Ursula. Her shoulders trembled, in the rhythm of her unhindered sobs.

Ursula gave her light pats on the back. "I owe you an apology, Miss Goode," she said. "I should've informed the cook that I don't eat seafood. It makes me rather sick."

And Cordelia felt sick, too, of the haughty smirk that never left her lips even in such a situation. "You just watched them fight? Why didn't you stop them?"

"I was too frightened to even move a finger. I know, very embarrassing. But she's got a hot temper in this little body." The Woman kissed Misty in the forehead. "I didn't want to get hurt, you see?"

"It looked more like she was enjoying the dogfight," Zoe said quietly.

The hushed accusation didn't reach the Woman's ears. "Come on, puppy, let us go get something in downtown." She led Misty, and they walked out of the room.

Cordelia heard the grand door open and shut. Her feet carried her body to the window, and there she and the two council members watched the women leave the property. Despite the distance, the arrogant air around the Woman still remained distinct, her musky perfume lingering in Cordelia's nostrils.

"But Misty loves seafood . . ." Queenie said by her side.

"What the hell is going on with her?" Zoe looked at the Supreme, with a tone of mingled disappointment and bafflement.

One thing was crystal clear— That Woman had brought about nothing but calamities. The last two days had worn Cordelia down as hard as Fiona did in her lifetime. But dear God— If her mother had been still around, she would've driven Ursula out without effort for certain. The conviction left more sense of guilt on Cordelia's skin.

The Supreme skipped lunch. She and the council moved to Queenie's room, in order to figure out a way to save their sister witch and the Coven from the Woman. Here, for the first time, Cordelia showed the pictures of the mark on Misty's neck.

"It completely slipped out of my mind," she said, as she sent those images to their phones. "There's been a lot to deal with."

Zoe tilted her head, as she looked at her own phone. "It looks like a rune symbol."

"Yes. Have you seen anything like this before, Queenie?"

The Voodoo doll shook her head. "It may or may not be a rune. Can't tell." She walked to her bookshelf, and grabbed one of the thick black books, flipping through it. "Even if it actually is a rune symbol, there are tons of different kinds of them, from different cultures and times."

At that, Cordelia's shoulders dropped. "I wish we had at least some sort of clue."

"Hold on—" Queenie closed the book with a thud. She replaced it with her smartphone. "There's an app where you can take a picture and search for similar images online."

The Supreme and Zoe locked eyes, looks of wonderment on their faces.

To everyone's disappointment, though, the mighty internet only gave them _related_ images. Not a single search result matched, or even remotely resembled the one in question.

"Maybe," Zoe said, "we can find a clue if we learn something about Ursula." With her laptop in her lap, she began to type. "What's her full name?"

"Ursula Knares," Cordelia said.

However, this attempt also ended up being fruitless. No social media accounts, no graduation pictures, nothing whatsoever. The Woman didn't have any traces of her on the digital web.

"She's like a ghost," the brunette said.

"Try searching for ' _the first Supreme of the Coven,'_ " Queenie said.

The suggestion made the current Supreme draw her eyebrows together. "You're going to search for _our_ history on the internet?"

The Voodoo doll shrugged. "You teach the History of Witchcraft, and even you don't know anything about the things before the Salem witch trial."

"That doesn't mean you can rely on the sea of uncensored information with no academic ground."

"Still better than none, though."

In spite of her reluctance, however, Zoe finished her search during their little disagreement. "Nothing about Ursula Knares," she said. "Most of the sites just mention the first Supreme after the trial."

The three of them heaved a collective sigh of frustration.

"Is that name even real, though?" The Voodoo doll made a grimace. "It's almost impossible to live nowadays in this society, without leaving a trace of you on the internet. It's obviously an alias." Then, all of a sudden, she slapped her knee. "It could be an anagram!"

The idea had never occurred to Cordelia. It sounded like something from a mystery movie. But at this point, she felt eager to give every possibility a thought.

"There must be a website to solve anagrams." Queenie again began doing something on her phone.

Cordelia waited with a thumping heart, staring down at the pictures of the symbol. The hateful eyes of Misty flickered before her eyes. They brimmed with tears, and Cordelia went through her decisions back in the kitchen, over and over again. She had never, or even considered to treat any of her girls in such a barbaric way. And the worst of it all, the thing that tormented her conscience the most, was that the decision came to her mind spontaneously. It meant she had that naturally brutal part of her somewhere deep in her. It meant she might act the same way again under extreme circumstances in the future. It meant there were Fiona's genes in her. That horrified her.

Queenie groaned, as she threw her phone on the mattress. "There's no anagram that uses all of the letters of her name."

They found themselves at a dead-end.

ooOooOoo

Both of the council members had to leave for their classes. With no lead on the case, Cordelia decided to go work in the greenhouse. She had skipped the morning routines, thanks to Ursula, and therefore had much more than usual to take care of. Many thoughts swarmed her mind, still.

As she stepped into the herbal kingdom, the noises inside her head became even more annoying. The purple lights gave the surface of the wooden table luscious gleams. She turned the lights off, and worked on the desk against the wall instead. Even then, the mere presence of the table bugged her, set her nerves on edge. She might have to burn that table down, or better yet, burn the whole greenhouse down.

Then, shortly after, the door opened behind her. The very culprit of her heartache walked in, followed by the Woman. The eyes of Cordelia refused to meet the Cajun's, as she continued working on her potions. Not due to her bitterness, but due to her guilt and shame. She felt the desperation radiating off Misty's skin.

"Can I talk to you, Miss Cordelia?" Misty said at last. The timidity in her voice made her sound like a little child.

The Supreme took a deep breath, and turned to her. Still, her eyes avoided the girl's.

Misty shifted her weight from one foot to the other, with her hands behind her back. Something gave a rustling sound at the slightest movement of her body. Ursula put her hand on the girl's back, and brought her lips close to her ear.

"Now, remember what I told you," the Woman said. Her black eyes met with Cordelia's for a moment.

The Cajun nodded her head. They shared a quick peck on the lips, and without any further emotional torture on Cordelia's part, the Woman left the greenhouse. Now, the two witches stood in silence. This silence, the air around them, had no resemblance to the one they used to share in this very place. It used to heal her heart, collecting the shredded pieces of it and bringing her back to life. Now, it destroyed the same heart from the inside, as if to say _healing you was a mistake_.

It was Misty who broke the silence. With a stiff smile, she brought her hands in front of her. A plastic bag rustled. "We went ta your favorite burger place," she said, closing the gap between them slowly. "Remember? You took me there once. And, I got you their wings." Out of the plastic bag, she took a to-go box.

The smell of the special hot sauce leaked from the crack. It reminded her of her empty stomach.

The Cajun looked into her face. "You said you liked 'em before. Do you still like 'em?"

Their shoulders almost touched. And the Supreme finally allowed herself to look into the blue eyes of the Cajun. The violent tears had smeared her makeup, and redness remained in the white of her eyes. But Cordelia found no ghost of the resentment she so feared to see. There was only a crease between her brows. Cordelia supposed she looked exactly the same herself.

So, she gave Misty a nod. "Still my favorite."

The girl's whole face lit up. "Do you want to eat now, while they're still warm?" She hastened to open the box, presenting Cordelia the magnificent view of buffalo wings. "If you do, could I have one? They smell real nice, and I kinda got hungry on my way back." She bit her lip, guilty but also expectant.

Cordelia couldn't resist the temptation to chuckle. "You can have more than one, Misty. You bought them. Come on, let's eat."

The next five minutes felt the most peaceful they had been in a while. They sat together, side by side. The silence grew pleasant again, and they even exchanged a cheerful glance. And like this, everything felt normal again.

The special hot sauce boosted her appetite. Cordelia savored the wing, and finished it without so much regard to her manners. As she reached for the second wing, however, she noticed Misty still nibbling on her first one. The majority of the meat was still stuck to the bones. Her bites were small.

"You know," Cordelia said, with a widening smile. "You don't have to eat so slowly. You can have more than one."

"But, I feel bad."

"I won't be able to eat them all. Help me, or they'll go to the fridge and the meat will stiffen."

The girl's mouth still moved at the same reluctant speed. But, as their eyes met, Cordelia gave a smile of encouragement, and it gave her the reassurance she needed. She devoured the remaining wing in seconds. It made Cordelia smile. It reminded her how much she loved watching the girl eat, with such passion, appreciation for life. And on the darkest days, the mere sight of it used to bring light into her life.

"Miss Cordelia?"

The Supreme turned to her. She found Misty looking down, with her whole wing intact. "Yes, Misty?"

The girl took one deep breath. "I'm sorry for what happened at lunch," she said. "I lost myself, and took my anger out on you, even though you were just trying to protect everybody else." She drew her brows together. Her lip had a beginning of a quiver. "I just— I can't believe Queenie even said those nasty things ta Ursula."

"Forgive her," Cordelia said. "Try to, at least. She's just worried about you. We are all worried about you."

"I'm fine. I mean, I'm fresh out o' hell and stuff, but I got Ursula now, and you. What's she gotta do with it anyway?"

"Well—"

"Do you agree with Queenie?" Misty looked up. The blue eyes shone in hostility all of a sudden. "Do you think she's a parasite?"

Cordelia swallowed. "No, I don't think she's a parasite." She felt like she couldn't breathe. "But I do think she could've stopped you, instead of watching."

"She apologized for that."

"I know she did. I know," the Supreme said, and put her wing back in the box. Her stomach felt full, with something that wasn't the wings. "Why don't you tell me about her? She's important to you, and I don't know anything about her." Her own words cut her heart like a knife. And it bled more, when the Cajun smiled, with her glossy cheeks.

"Well, it's kinda hard. I'm never good with words, and she's just beyond all that. But, she makes me happy, extremely happy." She looked somewhere distant, as though the Woman stood right in front of her. "When I'm with her, or even just think about her, nothing else matters. Like, I see her face, and Rhiannon starts to play inside my head . . . Yeah, she's my Rhiannon." There was a kind of lusciousness in her voice, a tone reserved for the Woman.

But Cordelia turned a deaf ear to that. "Has she told you anything about when or where she was born?"

"England. Don't know when, though," Misty said. Her eyes crinkled up. "I asked her yesterday why she doesn't have British accent. She told me she moved to this country in the 16th century and has lived here since. That's more than enough time to master another accent, right?" Showing her white teeth, she let out giggles.

"Where in England?"

"Not a clue." The Cajun shrugged, resuming her onslaught on the wing in her hands. "But she said her first home was somewhere around North Carolina. In the woods. She strengthened her powers there."

"Did she tell you about the mark, too? It's her that gave it to you, isn't she?"

Misty raised her hand to her neck, her fingers caressing the mark. "Yeah. She has the same mark on her heart, too. Isn't that cool? But she doesn't wanna tell me what it means. Says it's a secret. But you know, when I'm with her, it gets real hot here." She tapped her index finger on the bruise.

But it was not the only bruise on the girl's neck. Near the mark, numerous little bruises made a cruel contrast with the whiteness of her skin. Cordelia could not look away, even though her heart screamed and begged her to. She kept looking. And when Misty tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, her eyes caught a glimpse of another bruise on the back of her neck. It had a different shape than the other ones. Not round or oval, as hickies are. Instead, it was a thin, short lines of equal length, making a loose, horizontal shape of U. A bite mark.

Misty said something, but the Supreme didn't hear those words. She just saw, out of the corner of her eye, the brightest smile on the Cajun's face.

That night, Cordelia did not have a visit from the girl.


	3. Chapter 3

**Day 4**

The image of those accursed hickies and bite mark followed Cordelia around everywhere, non-stop. With her eyes closed, they gained more realness, more vividity. The only way to alleviate this pain was to keep her eyes open as much as possible. She blinked only when her eyeballs started to ache from a lack of moisture. Never mind the absurdity of her action. Nobody could've laughed at it, if they'd understood the gravity of the situation, the agony that these images brought to her. She tried to get her heart to be rock-hard. But the Cajun held a special place in her heart, the softest and the most vulnerable.

 _Yeah, she's my Rhiannon . . ._

How many times had she dreamed of being _that_? But an egotistical stranger showed up out of nowhere, and stomped on her heart like a piece of trash. And the frightened little girl in her had nobody to run to anymore. It hurt less to have a glassful of acid thrown at her face, or to thrust gardening shears right into her eyes. No heartache she had ever experienced in her wretched life could amount to this pain. And when _the moan_ returned to echo inside her head, Cordelia felt it chipping away at her sanity.

She knew, without a doubt, that the Woman found her agony entertaining, nothing but a circus. She bit her lip. This had to end now, or the Coven would lose the true leader. Only, she didn't know how.

By no means she assumed they had plenty of time. But this morning, a particular incident happened, which got everyone to realize that the hourglass was running out of sand.

It was about eight o'clock, when the Supreme and the council finished the morning meeting. Cordelia took a sip of her tea, as she prepared for another day. Then, the moment she put down her cup, there came crashing sounds from outside the room, and the girls crying out. She flew out of the room, and ran to the staircase, where a few girls were leaning on the railing and looking down. Doing exactly the same, Cordelia found a crowd of girls at the bottom of the stairs, right below her. In the center of the circle sat Misty on the floor, pressing her hand to her temple. The Supreme transmuted to the edge of the crowd, and almost elbowed her way to the Cajun.

"What happened?" She knelt down by Misty. But her eyes caught enough in an instant, and her hand flew to her mouth.

A huge gash, the length of her pinky finger, blemished Misty's forehead. Right before Cordelia's eyes, blood oozed from it, and trickled down her face. Someone from the mass of spectators pointed it out, and it was only then that the Cajun seemed to take notice of it. Her hand glided from her temple to the cut. When her blood-stained fingers came into her view, Misty narrowed her eyes.

"Don't move." The Supreme raised her hand to tend to the cut.

Misty, however, pulled away. "Nah, I can do that myself, Miss Cordelia." With both of her hands covering her forehead, she healed herself. She twisted her face into a weak lopsided smile. "I just missed a step and slipped, is all. Don't you worry." But her bloody forehead creased, when she looked down, and held the hem of her dress between her fingers. The article of clothing dripped with some white liquid. "Damn, I just changed into this."

Cordelia mirrored her action, looking down. There, she found out that her dress, too, fell victim to the mysterious liquid. Both of them were sitting in a pool of it, while the girls kept a good distance to avoid the same victimization. And on top of it, little shards of glass lay in and out of the pool, twinkling around them.

"Oh, shit. Miss Cordelia, your dress. I'm sorry."

The Supreme shook her head. "It's nothing. I'm relieved that you're safe."

Then, they heard clicking of heels above them. Everyone looked up in unison, as Ursula finally appeared to the railing. With the most relaxed, unruffled gait, she walked down the stairs. Her emotionless eyes kept looking at Misty, in the same distant, neutral manner an observer does at her object. She only looked down, when she lifted her long dress off the wet floor.

Misty stood up. "I'm sorry, I spilled your Almond Milk."

The Woman waved a hand, dismissive, disinterested. "Let us get another glass, then." Her eyes found Kyle, who stood behind the wall of girls. She signaled him with a snap of fingers like a dog. "Go fetch a mop, valet boy. Do not leave a single stain."

The two of them walked away from the mess, arms linked. While Misty looked back once with a guilty grimace, the Woman never did so, as though nothing had happened. The girls and Cordelia remained on the site, immobilized by bewilderment, by frustration. They watched as Almond Milk dripped from the Cajun's dress, and left a shimmering trail right in the hall, into the kitchen. Whispers began to spread among the girls, then.

The Supreme wrung her dress dry. "Girls, be mindful of the glass shards. If you need to use the stairs, also be careful, please," she said, as she cast a sympathetic glance at Kyle.

But the spilled milk was at the bottom of her priorities now. Despite Misty's reassurance, Cordelia still felt quite concerned. Her heart buzzed in agonizing fret. She felt a lump in her throat, a typical symptom at the beginning of a panic attack.

She walked into the kitchen, and found the two women at the kitchen counter, face to face. Misty, with the heels of her palms, wiped away the blood off her forehead. But in the middle of the cleaning, Ursula held her chin to examine the injury, in her distant manner. There was not a hint of love in the action. Cordelia even saw something similar to amazement, in the way the Woman's lip curled into a smirk. The sickening feeling in Cordelia's stomach got worse at the sight. She walked towards them.

Misty heard the footsteps, turned her head to the Supreme, and that very movement caused the gash to open. Blood began to trickle down her nose again.

Cordelia rushed to stop the blood with her power. Her hand became sticky with the red.

The Cajun smiled, sliding her finger across the healed skin. "Thank ya, Miss Cordelia. I thought I healed it completely, though."

"Maybe your powers haven't come back to you entirely." The Supreme wet a sheet of paper towel, and wiped her hand clean. "Just try not to use your powers for a while. Give yourself a break." She wet another sheet, then stepped closer to the girl again, to get rid of the blood.

But before she could, the Woman held Misty's chin, just as she's done seconds ago, and brought their faces closer.

"But there's something absolutely charming about your look, my pet," she said. She swiped her thumb across the bloody skin, and sucked the finger. Moans rose from somewhere deep in her, as her eyes closed.

Cordelia couldn't conceal her disgust. She looked at Misty with the same sensation, and wondered why such an inappropriate remark should gather blood to her cheeks.

ooOooOoo

The Supreme did not return to her office, but went to Queenie's room instead. The incident at the stairs disturbed her mind too much, and the scene in the kitchen only exacerbated her frustrations. Something must be done. They must find a way.

"She said she'd simply missed a step, but this has to have something to do with Ursula," Cordelia said, as she walked to and fro in the room.

"And have you seen how she ordered Kyle around?" Queenie said. "Like he's her personal servant? Of course, he didn't complain, but _fuck_. That Woman is so fucked up."

Cordelia felt her brows drawn together. "Could you tell him I'm sorry," she said to Zoe, who sat in the bed with the Voodoo doll. "I should've helped him, but I needed to see if Misty was really okay."

"He understands," Zoe said. "but, yeah, I'll tell him you said that. We really need to something about Ursula, though. The girls are scared of her. And I'm scared that even if Misty had a bigger accident, she'd still be smiling like she did at the stairs."

"That fucking smirk makes me sick to the stomach," the Voodoo doll said.

The Supreme stopped her feet. "I talked to Misty yesterday. She told me Ursula was born somewhere in England, and moved to what's now North Carolina. But Ursula kept the meaning of the symbol on her neck a secret from her." The image of Misty's _marked_ neck of course flashed across her mind. "I thought I might obtain crucial information about her identity, but I wasn't so lucky."

"Yeah, I've been on the internet when I could, but no luck here, either," Queenie said.

Zoe gave a nod. "Same here. Why do I feel like she even hides it from Misty because she sees through it all, knowing Misty will tell you everything," she said to Cordelia.

"She's so pretentious," the Voodoo said. "More than Delphine. I bet she's in her bed now, making Misty bring her food and water and everything she wants like a queen, laughing at us. I hate that laugh, and that smirk, too."

"They went to the swamp, actually," the Supreme said, as she bit her nails. "I agree that she regards us as losers, though."

Zoe made a confused grimace. "The swamp? Whose car did they take? Are they driving? It's a little too far to go by taxi . . ."

Cordelia shrugged her shoulders, with her arms crossed in front of her chest. "Transmutation, I guess. I don't know."

"I don't know about you two," Queenie said with a sarcastic smirk, "but I can't imagine that Woman trying to learn how to drive, or queueing up at the DMV." She let out a snort.

They fell quiet at once, then. Although, it wasn't the Woman on the wheel that occupied the mind of the Supreme.

"Come to think of it, though," the Voodoo doll said, "have we ever seen that Woman use her powers? She always uses a lighter to smoke." She looked at the other two.

Loaded silence was their collective answer, as a new idea presented itself.

"Let me ask you this—" Queenie held up a finger. "Is she _really_ the first Supreme as she claims to be? Doesn't the current Supreme have to die in order for the next one to gain her full power?"

"She's got a point," Zoe said, looking at the current Supreme. "It just doesn't add up. How has she lived so long, and managed to still look so young?"

"She said that it's not difficult," Cordelia said. "Marie Laveau lived for more than two centuries and still looked like in her thirties."

"But Marie Laveau wasn't a Supreme," Zoe said.

"Yeah, and even Marie had to make a bond with Papa Legba, and not without great sacrifice," the Voodoo doll said. "And may I add, it wasn't just a one-time thing. She had to sacrifice the soul of a newborn every single year."

"Delphine didn't have to make sacrifice."

"'Cause that was a curse, not a contract. Marie tricked her into drinking her potion."

The brunette seemed deep in thought. "Okay, but let's assume she actually has lived for as long as she claims. She must have extensive knowledge about ancient potions, don't you think?"

Listening to this exchange between the girls, Cordelia had the lightbulb go on in her head. "Zoe's right. Her knowledge is vast, literally covers the last five centuries." She began to walk about again. "If she could make a potion of eternal life and youth, she should be able to make a potion to alter someone's mind without the person knowing it."

"So, are we back to the original theory, her being the first Supreme?" the Voodoo doll said.

Zoe leaned forward. "What kind of potion?"

"I don't know exactly," Cordelia said.

"Don't you have to know exactly what it is, in order to concoct an antidote?"

There was a ghost of a smile, a smile of hope, on the Supreme's lips. "Not necessarily. Although alchemy has an infinite number of recipes, infinite combinations of ingredients, we only have a few antidotes to count. That's the biggest difference between alchemy and spell magic. And if I know the effect of the potion, I could easily narrow down which antidotes to make."

As she said this, her feet carried her to the door without her notice. And by the time she uttered the last word, she found herself quite out of the room.

ooOooOoo

Cordelia worked in the greenhouse for hours, even skipped lunch again. Lab equipment and books spread across the usually neat surface of the table. Jars, glass bottles, and bags of alchemic ingredients found space between the books. And the very few chosen ones sat on the desk against the wall, where the Supreme worked. She ground the essentials into powder. She picked up a beaker with a clear liquid in it, and poured it and the powder into an empty flask over a fire. After several seconds, the concoction changed its color to light orange. With crucible tongs, she lifted the flask off the fire. This was her second potion.

As she lost herself in the work, she had a feeling in her chest that she hadn't felt in a while. Hope. It made her heart feel a little bit lighter, her view less daunting. The day before, the pretentious Woman had tainted this precious heaven of a place with her unholiness. Although that memory—the picture and the sound—stuck to her mind forever, she managed to turn this greenhouse back into a place of hope, of potential to save the Cajun.

Still, she had to have her emotion under control, not to indulge in this feeling. She knew, from three decades of bitter personal experience, what could follow such optimism and high expectations. It had never resulted in a happy ending. So, as she'd always done in her life, she closed her eyes and prepared for disappointment.

Then, there came the undisputed clicking of heels. The door creaked open.

"It smells nice in here. Conjuring up something?" Ursula walked in.

Misty followed her in, like a little duckling. She sniffed the air, and her face lit up when her eyes met Cordelia's.

"Hello, Miss Cordelia," she said, walking towards her. A shiny leather satchel bag—the Supreme had never seen it before—hung from her shoulder. In her hands was a large jar, filled with swamp mud. "I got you something from the swamp. It's the same kind of mud I used to use for healing things. It's also great for your plants."

The Supreme took it, mumbling words of gratitude. She then watched Ursula kiss the Cajun on the lips.

"Don't stay here for too long, puppy, or I won't give you a massage." The Woman gave her another kiss, and throwing a malicious smirk in the direction of Cordelia, she sauntered out of the place.

Cordelia ignored it. Even the slightest hint of jealousy would allow the Woman to feed off it. The best tactics were to remain unaffected. The Supreme knew that. But, as silence began to fill the greenhouse, she felt as though the sound of her heartache grew louder.

Misty put her bag down on a stool, and began to rummage in it.

That, at least, made Cordelia smile a little. "Did you enjoy the trip?"

"Yeah!" The girl twinkled her big eyes. "We stopped by my shack first, and then sort of strolled around the deeper part o' the swamp. I found lots of fun stuff. Pretty feathers, a cool rock, bones of some kind o' animal, another cool rock . . ." She lined these things up on the edge of the messy table. ". . . The skin of a tree, a weird-shaped rock, an emerald rock . . . and more rocks."

There was the pride and precision of a museum curator. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip in joyful concentration. Even her voice sounded an octave higher, as she introduced her trophies to her companion. Cordelia lost herself in the sight. The whole being of Misty Day radiated happiness in that moment. And when she finished putting the entire collection on display, it seemed to give her great satisfaction.

She walked towards the Supreme, then. "Whatcha making there?"

Cordelia faltered, as she looked down at the two potions. "These are, um—" Although she couldn't possibly tell the girl the truth, she found it equally difficult to lie through her teeth. "These are for you, Misty. Both of them. They are potions of Vitalitas. You look very tired, and I wanted to do something for you."

The Cajun smiled. "Of course, I'm tired. I just walked around the swamp for hours."

"No, I mean this morning, what happened at the stairs."

"Told you, I was just drowsy and careless. Couldn't really sleep last night." Misty lowered her eyes. Her wild curls failed to conceal the reddening cheeks.

And only with that sight, Cordelia again understood. She didn't want to, but it came to her like the Sight. There was no escape.

"Well, but considering what happened to your injury on your forehead, I'll feel better if you take them. They are not like regular energy drinks. They help your soul heal itself." She took a mug cup off the shelf, poured one of the potions into it, and handed the cup to Misty.

And with a doubtless smile, Misty chugged the first potion. A hum of approval escaped, as she licked her lips. "Strawberry?"

"It smells like it, but I used no fruit," the Supreme said, pouring the other potion into the mug. She then watched the girl take a swig again. The childish happiness on Misty's face gave her a pang of conscience, as well as a conflicting warm feeling.

"Not as sweet as the first one, but I still like it," Misty said. She put her hands in the air, then, stretching her back. "Them Vitalis potions and a massage from Ursula, and I'll be good as new tomorrow morning!"

The mention of her nemesis pricked Cordelia's heart. Still, the same heart thumped in anticipation, in morbid optimism, at the idea that this might be the last time she had to hear the cursed name. Her apprehension vanished suddenly. It would take an hour or two for the potions to kick in, though. That was the downside of alchemy, but she could wait.

She let the Cajun go and remained in the greenhouse, waiting for Misty to appear again and rush into her arms. Her eyes made constant round trips between the door and the clock. Every second felt like an eternity. A thought flashed across her mind, then, that this could be actually Papa Legba's hell. No sound came from the academy, and it disturbed her, too.

Tidying up the place served as a good distraction for a while. She put the ingredients back on the shelves, washed the equipment, and even swept the floor. But with her great efficiency, this whole activity only took about half an hour. She sank back in a chair, as she couldn't find anything else to do with her time. It wasn't one of her options to go back to her office.

It was at this moment that her eyes caught something in front of her. On the eyepiece of her microscope, a brown moth rested its wings. Her brows knotted together. Although moths and other insects did not disgust her, their presence in the greenhouse vexed her. It was a kind of moth she had never seen before. Assuming it had come along with Misty from the swamp, she waved a hand to drive it away.

Then, two hours passed, and another hour, and another. Despite the still bright sky, her world became pitch-dark. She cursed her own stupidity. She should've kept her guard up. When someone knocked on the door at last, she knew it was simply Zoe, coming to fetch her for dinner.

"Are they there?" Cordelia asked.

The brunette shook her head.

And the Supreme did not even get a glimpse of Misty or the Woman until the next day.


	4. Chapter 4

**Day 5**

Her feeble mind only allowed her a small amount of sleep. In the morning, her makeup and the grace of Supremacy didn't suffice for concealing the fatigue on her face. She tried her hardest to hide it from the girls at breakfast. But the truth was, they simply paid due respect to their Supreme and remained silent about it. Cordelia knew this, and felt thankful and impotent at the same time.

Queenie had a different idea of respect, though, apparently. "You look like shit," she said right in her face.

Though Cordelia would've loved to respond with sarcasm, she could only give a heavy nod. Her body didn't possess enough power to even lift her blank gaze from her bowl of oatmeal. It only rose, at last, as the merry voice of Misty reached her ears.

The Cajun entered the dining room, greeting the girls. She wore a black dress Cordelia had never seen. Her eyes met with Queenie's. Since the incident in the kitchen two days ago, they hadn't found a chance for reconciliation. But the grimaces on both of their faces revealed, with eloquence, that neither felt much eager for it anyway. Still, Misty mumbled a 'good morning,' and the Voodoo doll parroted. They agreed on a ceasefire. The Cajun sat next to the Supreme, then. She took an apple from the basket on the table, sinking her teeth in it.

Cordelia forgot about her oatmeal altogether. It felt quite a long ago since they'd sat together like this. What was left of her attention focused on the girl, every small detail of her, not to miss any changes.

Although Misty wore a content smile, her skin seemed to have lost its glow. Her feral curls seemed _tamed_ somehow. And the bruises on her neck seemed darker and bigger than the ones branded in Cordelia's memory. They stood out on the pale skin. So obvious. Nobody bothered to comment on them. But, even without the bruises, something quite unsettling radiated from her, something that made Cordelia's nerves buzz.

"Isn't Ursula with you, Misty?" she said.

"She's getting ready."

So, the potions didn't work, which meant they were going back to square one. Cordelia's heart sank deeper. Of all her failures accumulated since her birth, this one made her feel the shittiest. If she lost Misty again, it'd be the end of the world.

"Oh, Jesus fucking Christ."

Cordelia turned her head around to the voice source. Next to her, Misty did the same. They saw Queenie standing behind them, her face contorted into a repulsed frown with a curled lip, her eyes set on the Cajun.

"Cover your back," the Voodoo doll said. "Why the fuck did you think that outfit was appropriate?"

The Supreme followed the gaze and looked at Misty's back, and felt her blood turn into sleet in a flash. The Cajun's dress had very deep U-shaped open back, revealing the vast majority of her upper back. And on the bare skin, Cordelia saw numerous red nail marks that stretched across her shoulder blades. They looked like wings, and Cordelia hated the idea.

"What? Why?" Misty twisted her neck, but couldn't quite get a view.

"As if," the Voodoo doll said. "Ask your sugar mama. She knows exactly what she's doing. I guess those gigantic hickies aren't enough, huh?"

The confused eyes of the girl turned sharp, as she stood up. "I don't know what you're ranting about, but I swear if you ever insult Ursula again—"

But before Misty got to finish the sentence, Kyle rushed to her. As he put his butler jacket on her, he whispered something in her ear. At once, her whole face became red.

"I didn't— I didn't know." She wrapped the jacket tight around her body. She looked at Cordelia. "Ursula wanted me to wear it today. I should go get a shawl."

Just as she took a step forward, however, the Woman walked in.

"No need for it, puppy." A bright red shawl hung from her hand. "I did ask you to wear that dress, but I never said you couldn't match it with a shawl, silly girl." She met Misty halfway, almost tore the jacket off, and draped the shawl around the girl's shoulders. She pecked her on the lips, as though it was the finishing touch.

"Thank you, you're my savior."

Although the Supreme couldn't see Misty's face from her seat, she knew those cheeks were growing red.

"Anything for my little adorable pet." Ursula gave her cheek a stroke with the back of her hand, and another kiss on the lips. "Listen, why don't you spend the morning with your headmistress? I have something to attend to. Is that okay with you, Miss Goode?"

Many pairs of eyes shifted to Cordelia at once. But it was all that the Supreme's brain registered, as she blinked at the abrupt shift of attention. It took a couple of more seconds to dawn on her that they expected a reaction from _her_.

"Of course," she said at last. In her bewildered state, she caught Misty smiling at her.

The Woman held Misty's chin, and made the girl turn back to her. "Be a good girl, and don't trouble your headmistress," she said.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Misty said. She watched her lover walk away, until they could no longer hear the clicking of her heels. If she had a tail, she'd be wagging it to the fullest. Then, she rushed to Cordelia. "Can we go to the greenhouse now?"

"Of course," Cordelia said.

But someone cleared their throat behind her. The Supreme turned around, and found Queenie giving her _a look_. She turned back to Misty.

"After the council meeting," she said. "It won't take long. Do you want to wait in the greenhouse?"

Misty gave vigorous nods.

The Supreme and the council members all moved to the office, then, with Misty tagging along. At the door, Cordelia handed the Cajun the keys to the greenhouse.

"Can I play Stevie while I wait for ya?" Misty said. "I saw one o' those weird music boxes on your desk yesterday."

"Of course. Do you know how to use it?"

"Kinda. How many buttons does it have?"

Cordelia found herself smiling at it. "Maybe I can go with you really quickly and show you—"

Queenie cleared her throat. When she got the attention from the Supreme, she raised a brow at her.

"It's alright, Miss Cordelia," the Cajun said. "Promise you'll come soon."

"I promise."

And Misty walked away, holding the keys as though they were treasures. The Supreme watched her. The shawl on her shoulders swayed. As red as the nail marks across her skin underneath it.

Queenie cleared her throat again, with more intention. Cordelia gave the Cajun a final glance, before going back in the office.

"Can I be the first one to say, _what the fuck?_ " Queenie said from her seat in front of the desk.

With a faint sigh, Cordelia closed the door, and sank in her chair. "I understand your frustrations, but you could've done it with more discretion. You only embarrassed her in front of the girls."

"Frustrations? Is that what you want to call it?" The Voodoo doll leaned forward. "Did you actually see the scars? They weren't normal nail marks. Her entire upper back was fucking swollen."

"And is it just me or has she lost weight significantly in the last couple of days?" Zoe said next to her. "I heard her complaining to Kyle that her rings kept falling off."

"The point is," Queenie said, "that Woman obviously gives no shit about Misty. And we gotta do something ourselves. Really, something."

A sigh of exasperation escaped the Supreme's lips. "I know that. I want to save her as much as you do."

"So what do we do?" the Voodoo doll said. "How do we kick her out?"

"I don't know." Cordelia's head reeled. With this case of Ursula and the fatigue working in tandem, she felt like she could burst into tears at any moment. "I'm going to talk to Misty later, to see if there's any more information helpful. But we need to remind ourselves that we are also responsible for the other girls. What we need right now is to get this meeting over with."

So, they started the morning meeting, even though reluctance flooded the room. The topics of the meeting ranged from the smallest quarrels between some girls to the performance of their new teacher, to the Coven's financial state and so on. Not as detailed as one might think, though. They were wise enough to appreciate the value of time, and only used one third of the amount of time deemed necessary for a morning meeting in the corporate world.

Still, it felt twenty times as long to Cordelia's worn-out senses. She itched to finish it. Everything her council members said stayed in her mind only for a second, before flying out of the window. And her patience almost ran out, as the two girls returned to the topic of Ursula at the end of the meeting.

"Speaking of which, that Woman made a sort of huge fuss yesterday," Queenie said. "Probably when she came back from the swamp. The girls were just playing with water guns. Just innocent games. Then she ordered them to stop it, because water hurts her or some shit."

"Hurts her?" Zoe drew her brows together.

"Yeah. What is she, Elphaba Thropp? Of course, I was there, so I made it clear that those girls are no threat to her."

"That's weird." The brunette cast an uncertain glance at the Supreme. "What do you think Ursula could possibly have to attend to anyway?"

"Hell if I know. Washing her whips and dildo?"

At that, Cordelia broke her silence and cleared her throat. It was definitely an image none of them needed. Although she wanted to maintain her dignity, she couldn't stop heat from creeping up her neck.

"Sorry, it slipped," Queenie said.

"Are we done? Anything more to report?"

Zoe flipped through her notes. She looked up with her typical confused grimace. "I don't know if it's any important, but some of the girls complained of moths in their rooms."

"Moths?" Queenie said.

"Not gigantic, but big enough to bother them. I didn't see one myself, so I don't know."

"I have seen it," the Supreme said. "There was one in the greenhouse yesterday, too. If there was more than one, Misty and Ursula might've come home from the swamp with eggs, without knowing."

"What should I tell the girls?"

"Tell them not to use their powers to get rid of them," Cordelia said. "We have lots of deal with right now. I would lose my mind if someone set the house on fire for stupid bugs."

And they had no more to report or to discuss.

ooOooOoo

Cordelia transmuted herself to the greenhouse, right before the door. A heavy sigh escaped her lips.

Although she had felt impatient during the morning meeting, part of her now wished it'd taken more time. That way, she could've bought time, to prepare herself. She didn't feel brave enough, collected enough, to see the girl's face and act nonchalant. Especially now that her hormones were all over the place due to sleep-deprivation. One wrong move, and she might have a massive meltdown.

Her hand rested on the doorknob. From behind the closed door, the melody of Stevie's song came floating. This, at least, made everything a little easier. The image of Misty twirling with her shawl flashed across her mind, and it gave her the courage to push the door open.

The Cajun, however, did not welcome her with a full-blown smile and twirls. Instead, Cordelia found her sitting at the table, with her forehead perched on her folded arm. She remained in this position, and did not move a finger. But her back slightly moved up and down, in a calm, steady rhythm— She was sleeping.

The Supreme found herself at a literal standstill, unsure to even take a step back or forth. While she felt hesitant to disturb the girl's sleep, she also knew Misty would complain if she let her keep sleeping. Either way, it'd make Cordelia feel guilty.

 _Maybe another ten or twenty minutes . . . I could lie and blame the meeting for it._

She began to walk backwards, grabbing the doorknob behind her. But to her annoyance, the door made a creaking sound, too loud for her liking. She should've oiled the hinges when she could.

"Miss Cordelia?" Misty rubbed her eyes and yawned. She looked around, then, as though feeling disoriented. "What time is it?"

Cordelia sighed. "Only fifteen minutes since we parted," she said, pulling up a chair next to her. With a small distance between them, she could see some marks of the shawl in the Cajun's sunken cheek. "Are you okay? You could go to bed if you need to."

"Nah, I'm fine." Misty yawned again, then gave a huge grin. "I'd rather talk to you than sleep."

"Are you eating well? You didn't even finish the apple at breakfast."

The Cajun only shrugged. "I ain't that hungry in the morning anyway. But maybe, could you make me one o' those Vitalis potions again? I think they worked for some hours yesterday."

Of course, even if the girl believed the portions had restored her energy, it was placebo effect at best. The potions of Disenchantment did not have such side-effect. Her blind faith gave Cordelia a pang of conscience. Still, the truth had to remain in the dark, for Misty's sake.

She agreed to the wish, then, and began to line up her equipment and jars of herbs. She needed no book this time.

Misty came to stand by her. "I wanna help. Do you need me to do anything?"

"Well, I'd like it if you had some rest," Cordelia said, "but you wouldn't listen, would you?"

The Cajun giggled, as she shook the head of wild curls.

"Tear two of these leaves to small pieces in this, then." The Supreme handed her a jar of dried leaves and an empty bowl. And her gentle smile widened a little, when Misty began to work with the familiar enthusiasm.

The Supreme worked at the other desk, her back facing the girl. Soft humming of Misty filled the greenhouse, softening the atmosphere. The music player now played _The Kind of Woman_ , and for a split second, everything felt right, back in its right place, with just two of them in their safe heaven. Cordelia stopped her hands, closed her eyes, and listened to her humming, until the song came to an end. Her heart swelled with gentle warmth, the feeling of coming home.

When she turned around, though, the girl was still tearing a leave. There was a sign of distress in every movement of her fingers, in contrast to the softness of her humming. Cordelia walked closer to her. She gave a blatantly concerned expression with a silent question.

And Misty let out an awkward chuckle at that. "Takin' a lot more time than expected."

"Don't worry about that, but— Is everything okay? Are you sure you don't need sleep?"

"'M okay. Just . . . My joins kinda hurt." Finishing with the leave, Misty clenched and unclenched her fist in front of her face.

In the dim light, the hand indeed seemed like a hand of an elderly person, boney and wrinkled, and with bulging blue veins. Like Zoe had mentioned, those thin fingers uncharacteristically had no rings on them. But there was an exception, her right middle finger.

"I feel like a grandma," Misty said. "I can even hear 'em make squealing noises sometimes."

"I'll put some anti-inflammatory herbs in the potion," the Supreme said, as her eyes travelled between the potion and the sole ring on Misty's finger. It had a rather large orange gemstone, with a peculiar play of light. For some unknown reasons, she felt uneasy at the sight. "Is it Cat's Eye? I've never seen you wear it before."

The Cajun smiled with every muscle of her face. "Ursula let me borrow hers. It's a gift from her benefactor. She says it's a real piece of the sun." She held the ring to the light. "Dunno. Might actually believe her, you know." Her voice sounded dream-like, as the look of mirth and pride adorned her tired face.

The makeshift joy of Cordelia met its end here like this. She looked down, and sped up the pace of her potion making. Gloomy silence surrounded them. She seemed to be the only one aware of it, though, while the Cajun swayed her hips to the music.

She almost gave into her temptation to stay in the silence. Another word of the Woman from Misty would shred her heart and hope beyond repair. But the rational part of her knew they could afford no more of this stagnant, passive silence. Cordelia would rather die than to fail the girl like this.

"So, do you know where Ursula went or what she's doing?" Cordelia kept working, as she wore the pretense of nonchalance.

The Cajun chuckled. "You really are eager ta know about her, yeah? Sorry to disappoint you, though, 'cause she ain't doing nothing special."

"What do you mean?"

"She didn't tell me, but I know," Misty said, with a proud smile. "I know it was just an excuse, so I could spend some time with ya. She says all the time that my happiness is real important to her. And you're big part o' my happiness."

This was not the answer Cordelia had expected. She mixed drops of extracted herbal oil into the concoction, feigning to be lost in thought. But Misty's nonchalant confession kept ringing in her mind, and naturally, she felt heat creeping up her neck. How she wished to say the same to the Cajun. How her heart ached to admit her adoration.

"I—"

"Um, Miss Cordelia?" Misty hunched over to peep inside the round flask. "The smoke is rising. What's next?"

"Oh, shit—" The Supreme rushed to it, and covered the opening with her palm. An awkward laugh followed a sigh of relief, as the smoke touched the lid of her palm. "Can't let the smoke escape."

"Almost went up in smoke?"

Cordelia shared a genuine laugh with the girl. "Something like that."

The eyes of the Cajun travelled to the smoke-filled flask. For some seconds, both of them stood, watching as the smoke dissolved back into the potion.

"It gives me relief kinda," Misty said.

Cordelia raised her brows at her.

"You know, you're the almighty Supreme and all. Not just powerful, but you're kind, and super smart. I'd never come close to you, no matter how hard I try. So, it sorta makes me feel better to know you can too make mistakes. Almost, anyway." Her eyes twinkled, with coy, but unashamed stars of affection and pride.

And the gaze penetrated Cordelia's heart. So hard and unexpectedly that she couldn't even think to respond. She just stared at the girl. She felt like crying all of a sudden.

"I'm not as powerful as you believe," she said, her gaze low. "You've seen how miserably helpless I am."

"But that was before you became the Supreme. Even then, it was what they made you believe. I never thought you were ever helpless."

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Cordelia remembered the feeling of Fiona's disapproving gaze and the sharp sting of her slap. And in between those smarting sensations, the image of Misty flickered through her mind. _You are such an awesome leader, Miss Cordelia._

Nothing had changed since then.

"It doesn't matter," Cordelia said. "That's the real me, a helpless girl whose only talent is to make herbal cocktails, a witch who blinded herself because she didn't have any other way to save a sister witch. That's me, and there'll always be that miserable girl inside me. And—" She laughed, despite the trail of tears rolling down her cheek.

Misty's hand came to wipe the tears away. Her palm felt dry and coarse. But the gentle warmth still remained, and made Cordelia cry even harder. She placed her hand on the coarse hand, almost nuzzling into it.

"I'm not powerful, Misty," she said between her sobs. "Look what a failure I am, right now, how I continue to fail you."

The Cajun shushed her, as she pulled her into a tight embrace. "You never fail me, Miss Cordelia. Don't ever belittle yourself like that." She ran her fingers through the straight hair of Cordelia.

The Supreme could feel the bones of her fingers. Despite being the one to be held, she feared that she might break Misty. "But you're getting weaker by the day. Can't you see that? I'm scared for you, scared to death."

"It's— I'm fine, I promise." Misty pulled away, and revealed a smile of remorse. "Besides, I got your potion, don't I? Is it ready now?"

Taking a deep breath, Cordelia gave a nod.

Misty chugged the energy potion, straight from the flask. She twisted her face, sticking her tongue out. "This is so bitter. I thought it'd be sweet like yesterday's."

"Because I made you a stronger potion," Cordelia lied, as she forced a smile. "It will take effect in thirty minutes."

The Cajun put the flask down, and took the hands of the Supreme. "Dance with me, then, while we wait."

Before Cordelia could utter a word, the girl turned up the volume of the music, and pulled her to the little open space near the table. Her twirling spot. With one arm around Cordelia's waist and the other on her shoulder, Misty led the dance. It might have been the most awkward dance in the history of the universe. One pair of feet shuffled across the floor, out of rhythm, while the other pair moved with expert swiftness. Their knees bumped into each other occasionally, and Cordelia even stepped on the girl's toe once. But the Cajun kept smiling, kept humming, and Cordelia felt her body relax each passing second.

"If anyone falls in love. Somewhere in the twilight dream time . . ." Misty closed her eyes and sang, as though relishing how the words danced on the tip of her tongue.

Cordelia couldn't take her eyes off that sight. Her feet now moved on their own accord, and to her amazement, they moved just like Misty's. Every cell of her buzzed, resonating with the bliss in the air. In that moment, she even forgot to breathe.

Everything else blurred in the light of Misty Day.

It gave Cordelia joy, but also terrified her. She didn't want this to end. She wished the Cajun would never open her eyes and go back to Ursula. She wished for eternity.

"Misty?"

The girl rested her chin on the Supreme's shoulder, humming.

The soft breath caressed Cordelia's neck. "What if— If you had to choose between me and Ursula, if you didn't have any other choice, which would you choose?" Her heart drummed in her ears, making her head spin.

The Cajun let out giggles, contrary to the desperation of the Supreme. But when her eyes opened and saw Cordelia's face, all of the mirth dissipated. Their bodies slowly parted, while their eyes looked into each other's.

And in those blue eyes, Cordelia saw the answer.

ooOooOoo

The unspoken admission devastated Cordelia more than anything. She didn't even know whether to cry or to laugh, whether to give this all up or to reaffirm her determination. And as this traumatic event happened in the greenhouse, she now only had her office to hide in. She drowned herself in an ocean of papers, choked herself with a number of business calls, made her head nearly explode with an endless list of emails and letters. All of this, in order to punish herself. Any type of suffering gave her life. They did not allow her mind to drift to Misty.

It was in the middle of this escapism that the Woman walked in, without a knock on the door. Cordelia was on the phone with an annoying helicopter parent. The grimace on her face grew even deeper at this unwelcome visitor. But it was the only way she could protest. She couldn't even let out a quiet sigh. She gave wholehearted, sincere responses to the person on the other side of the phone, while her eyes followed the Woman with vindictive aversion.

As usual, Ursula moved about with repugnant ease, like a free cat in front of a chained dog. The pale skin of her thigh peeked from the deep slit in her dress. Every other step revealed a black lacy garter. In her cleavage rested a large stone of her necklace—mostly likely real diamond. Light bounced off it, and dazed the Supreme every now and then. Right beneath the glimmering stone, the same rune symbol as Misty's embellished the skin.

 _Misty said something about the same mark on her heart._

Cordelia glared at the mark. Then, the Woman stopped walking. Their eyes locked, and the Supreme blushed scarlet, getting caught staring at her breasts. Cordelia didn't raise her eyes for the rest of the phone call.

Then, the dreadful moment came, as the phone call ended.

"What did you say to my pup?" Ursula said, as soon as the Supreme put the phone down. "She looks awfully depressed, and refuses to tell me the cause of it. I can't help but think you did something."

Cordelia didn't bother to hide her distress. "I thought you knew everything."

"I see that I won't get any answer from you, either." The Woman lit a cigarette, and shook her head slightly. The smoke enveloped her. The dark eyes seemed to follow the smoke, until it vanished. "I need her to be happy," she said. "Not want. _Need_. It's not an option. It's a matter of life and death, so to speak, though I don't expect you to understand."

"Why her? What makes her so special?"

Ursula shook her head again, but with a different air. "Not as talented as I thought . . ." she almost said to herself, but loudly enough for Cordelia to hear. "You've asked the same question before, and to be quite frank, I thought you'd know better than anybody."

The Supreme remained silent.

"That girl. Although a little uncouth and uncultured, she's pure, and fierce. I need those white flames, for my life."

The brows of the Supreme knitted at the offhand insults. "You're bringing her to ruin."

The Woman's smile grew more conceited, even malicious. "Ruin. Now that's an interesting choice of word." She walked to the window behind Cordelia's desk. "When I found her in the horrifying hell of Papa, I knew instantly that she was made for me. Her powers." She continued to look out the window. "Of course, she was dumb enough to get herself stuck in the first place, but her soul remained undamaged. Nothing could end her. She's like a . . ." She snapped her fingers, trying to get the word out. ". . . a jellyfish."

"A what?"

"Don't look so cross." Ursula laughed. "I only meant that the creature possesses a wonderful ability to live forever. I had never seen it in a human, though. That girl is truly special, more than you can imagine."

"I don't need your concern."

"If that self-generative power isn't made for me, I don't know what is." The Woman seemed too absorbed to hear the sarcasm. "So, I made a deal with Papa. We're quite good friends. Though you may not believe it, he owes me a lot. It was not difficult to have the girl let go."

"And am I supposed to be impressed?" the Supreme said. "You just moved her from one hell to another."

"Like I said, what would you do, then? Can you stop me?"

"I will."

And the way the dark eyes of the Woman glimmered sent shivers down Cordelia's spine. The self-absorption, the look of self-importance, the sadistic curb of the lips. The woman had a painful resemblance to the monster in her closet, that had died with her mother.

"Hurry up, the clock is ticking," Ursula said, and walked to the door. "Visit her afterwards. I'm sure the sight of you will revive her."

Even long after her exit, the smell of cigarette gave Cordelia a sick feeling in her stomach.

ooOooOoo

She meant to see Misty later. Not because of Ursula's suggestion, but in order to clear the air between them, to mend the broken heart of the Cajun. But the day had been quite eventful already, and it only piled up a layer of stress on another. It wore her nerves down. She needed a nap, for ten minutes at least. Closing her laptop, Cordelia dragged her feet to the couch, and lay down.

It was the deepest sleep a human could have. She didn't even remember closing her eyes. When her consciousness returned, the summer sun was almost beyond the horizon. The purple and pink of the sunset sky painted the walls of her office. She lay there still, staring at the ceiling, until she could only see darkness.

Misty might have gone to bed by now. Even if she hadn't yet, she must be in bed with Ursula. No doubt. Cordelia had missed the opportunity to see her.

With a reeling head, she returned to her bedroom. Although sleep wouldn't come again tonight, she at least needed the comfort of a cool shower and her nightgown. The tired face of a woman in the mirror looked back at her in her bathroom.

It was then she heard faint knocks on the door. As she opened it, she found Misty standing there.

"My head hurts," the girl said. Her footing seemed unstable. Her lips were tight. The crease between her brows deepened, as she screwed her eyes shut, fighting another sinister wave of pounding in the head. When she opened her eyes again, they shimmered with tears.

The Supreme held her by the shoulders, and walked her to the bed. She made her sit on the edge of it. "I'll make you my special drop for migraines," she said, pulling her alchemic kit out of the nightstand. She conjured up the drop at the speed of light, and handed it to the Cajun.

Misty swallowed the medicine with some difficulties.

"How was the potion of Vitalitas from this morning?" Cordelia said. "Did it work?"

"Don't know. I don't really remember."

Although neither of them vocalized it, Cordelia knew she was the culprit of it. A silence returned to them, pricking their skin. The Supreme watched, with a heavy heart, as Misty massaged her temples with the heels of her palms.

"Come on, I'll give you a head massage," she said. "Sit on the floor. It'll make it easier for me."

The Cajun moved slowly, as though careful not to disturb the blood flow in her brain. Cordelia gave her a pillow, and she sat on it, by the bed.

"Are you comfortable?" Cordelia asked, as she sat on the bed, hovering above the girl.

Misty answered with a small nod and a hum of approval.

The Supreme then raised her hands to the head of wilted wild curls. Her hair felt so stiff. It felt like the skin of a dead tree, so arid that she thought it would absorb all of the moisture and oil from her fingertips. She felt a squeezing in the chest.

"Miss Cordelia?"

Cordelia didn't respond. She only kept moving her fingers.

"I've been thinking," Misty said, with a distant voice, "about what you said in the greenhouse . . . Well, been trying to anyways." She let out a heavy sigh. "You know I love you, right? More than Stevie. More than my li'l garden in the swamp. Nothing scares me, 'cause I know you'd protect me. But, you have the Coven, the girls, who adore you without limit. And Ursula only has me. So . . . yeah, I can't leave her. That's my answer."

Cordelia's hands trembled, just like her bottom lip. She kept staring, almost glaring, at one place of the girl's head. If she moved her gaze, she knew tears would spill. But they wouldn't be tears of heartbreak. Although the sorrow still remained in her heart, it merged with frustration, swirling into a storm.

"Then, what if I didn't have anybody but you, like her?" Her voice had incredible calmness. "What would you do, then?"

"But it's just a . . . What's the word . . . Hypo-theory. Hypo-thes— It's just a big if."

At last, Cordelia drew back her hands. "Is it? Do you really think so?" Her eyes brimmed with tears at once. "Do you think, then, that I didn't have to struggle with emptiness for the last seven months, looking for you in every corner of the world? Do you think I woke up with a smile every morning, instead of sobs and screams?" She wiped her tears away, as Misty turned around. "This world was a constant reminder of how I lost you, and in my dreams I had to lose over and over again in my arms, every night. But at least, I could see you in these nightmares. Don't you know? I love you. I have no one but you, either."

The Cajun, with a troubled face, reached for her hand. "I love you, too."

But Cordelia pulled away. "No. No, you don't get it. I love you, the way Kyle loves Zoe, the way Nan loved Luke. Not the way Hank loved me, or the way Ursula loves you. It's not love. Love shouldn't look like that."

Out of breath, she cupped Misty's cheeks and pressed their lips together. Her lips felt hard and chapped, just like her hair.

The Cajun jerked away, as though a bolt of lightning struck her. They looked at each other, at a loss for words. Not even the Supreme knew what had driven herself, to risk everything. But then, the shock on Misty's face faded away, replaced with something sweeter, more mild. It stupefied Cordelia. And she could only close her eyes, as Misty leaned in for another kiss. The world spinned. The inside of Cordelia's chest grew hotter, more full, as the chapped lips of the girl moved against hers. Eternity seemed not so impossible in that moment. She tangled her fingers in the wild mane, bringing her closer.

But just as suddenly, Misty pulled away. The shock in her blue eyes looked stronger than ever. Her face contorted. Though her mouth opened, no word came out. She looked _betrayed_.

"I'm sorry," Misty said. For what, or to whom, neither of them knew.


	5. Chapter 5

**Days 6**

The daunted face of Misty flickered through her mind all night. Cordelia tossed and turned in her bed. The heat in her chest remained strong. The storm of rage inside her fed off the heat, the flame of longing, and filled her heart with a heat storm.

These fierce emotions would have died with the night, if she and her Cajun had only shared one kiss. One action on the spur of the moment. It could've been a mere mistake. But the second one, the pressing of the girl's lips, was what haunted her. It buzzed her lips.

The next day, she strode through the halls with the air of raging pride.

This would be the day.

As she walked in the kitchen, she heard a laugh of the Woman, and some murmurs. She kept walking towards the sounds. The two figures of Ursula and Misty came into view, then. They stood near the fridge.

Overnight, Misty had become even thinner. Skin and joints barely kept her bones connected. Her arms hung from her shoulders, so lifeless. Her dress kept sliding off her shoulder, without any flesh to keep it in place. The translucent skin revealed the blue veins underneath it. Almost half of the skin glimmered with bruises. A marionette made of old frail wood. Cordelia couldn't shake off the disturbing resemblance.

And yet, Ursula seemed more lively than ever, and kept taking and taking. Her firm crimson lips pressed against Misty's, and she tugged her almost white lip with her teeth. The fragile skin of the Cajun broke easily. Blood oozed, and trickled down to her chin.

The Supreme's rage flared up at the sight, at the smirk of the Woman that grew wider. She stood between the two, and faced Ursula.

"Good afternoon, Miss Goode."

"Save it, you witch bitch." Her voice had nothing but hate in it. "I've been a submissive hostess to you as a sister witch. But I've had it. This Coven has no place for a person who cannot treat another human being with respect."

Ursula raised her brows, feigning shock. "Am I being accused of indecency and disrespect? Miss Goode, I have to say I'm quite offended by your suggestion."

"Stay away from her. Stay away from us. You find too much joy in others' misery."

"Miss Cordelia, please." Misty pulled at her sleeve from behind. But the grip had no strength.

The Supreme didn't recognize the hollow face looking at her. She turned back to Ursula, as a new onset of rage flooded her. "Leave, and never come back. Do not lay a finger on her ever again."

The two Supremes glared at each other, both refusing to be the one to look away first. One obviously enjoyed this exchange way more than the other. Then, the Woman began to saunter around her, with her nauseating smirk. She stood right behind Misty, so that the girl now stood between them.

"Is that the best you could do, Miss Supreme, to give me a warning after another? What a great leader you are." Ursula spoke with unveiled mockery. Every word flew out of her mouth, deeply woven together with provocation. "Tell me, what are you going to do if an army of witch hunters strikes this institution again? Are you going to give them a warning, as they hold a rifle to your head?"

And as she spoke the last sentence, her hand rose, and hovered over the boney shoulder of Misty. Her dark eyes glimmered at Cordelia.

That was the last straw for the Supreme. Fury overtook the last bit of her self-control. With a swift wave of her hand, she took the bait, and flew the venomous Woman to the wall, pinning her to it.

Ursula didn't even gasp, however. She never dropped the smirk. The air of sadistic dominance still radiated off her, even with her limbs in magical shackles.

"Do not underestimate me," Cordelia said, baring her teeth. "I'm no less powerful than any of my predecessors. I can and _will_ kill anyone if the lives of my girls are in peril." She raised her hand again.

But Misty hunched over the hand, and almost put her whole weight on the Supreme. "Don't. Miss Cordelia, please!" she said in a fragile voice.

"Misty, let go."

"No! Don't hurt her!" Life returned to the bloodshot eyes. "She didn't do anything. Let her go!"

"Can't you see what she's doing to you!"

"I'll kill you if you hurt her!" Misty shouted with all of her might, and her voice bounced off the walls around them.

Cordelia froze there, in utter shock. The desperate blue eyes kept looking into hers. The shrill voice kept ringing in her ears. And as her view became blurry, she felt her magic slip through her fingers. Ursula fell to the ground with a thud. Misty wobbled to her, sank down on the floor, and sobbed, like a fawn snuggling against its wounded parent.

The girls now swarmed the entrance of the kitchen. They had come for a short break between classes, oblivious to the scene unfolding downstairs. Cordelia felt too emotional to face them. But even without looking, she could feel the curious eyes of the girls, studying the two lovers on the ground, and casting timid glances at the standing Supreme. Although she didn't know how much of the dispute they had seen or heard, she felt certain that she looked like _the villain_ in this picture.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ursula walk away with Misty. Despite being _the victim_ of the violence, the Woman wore a look of triumph. The Supreme clenched her fists.

When their footsteps faded away, Zoe and Queenie came to stand by her side.

Zoe rested a hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Cordelia nodded, still looking down at her toes.

"Fuck, she officially went mad," Queenie said.

At last, the Supreme regained her voice, and looked up. "No, it's not madness. It was just self-defense against an identity crisis."

"What do you mean?" the Voodoo doll said.

"Her eyes, they reminded me of mine, when I was a nobody, when Fiona reigned over my life. I knew how toxic her presence was, but at the same time, I knew I could be at least somebody with her venom permeating my skin."

"Do you think Misty loves her because she can make her feel special?" Zoe said.

Cordelia breathed out. Her world was still spinning around her. "I don't know if Love is the right choice of word. I don't know if it's caused by Ursula's spell or something else. I just know that, if we don't get rid of her right now, she'll end up killing Misty."

ooOooOoo

The three witches then moved to their base, Queenie's room. The windows and the door were locked, the curtains were drawn shut. The Supreme walked to and fro, while the two younger ones sat on the bed.

"I need to get one thing straight," Queenie said. "Is killing her an option?"

Cordelia stopped her feet, only for a moment. "If her immortality is like Marie Laveau's, she cannot be killed in a traditional sense."

"Alright, no killing, then," the Voodoo doll said. She turned to Zoe. "What do we know about that Woman so far?"

Zoe looked down at her notes. "She was born in England. We don't know exactly when, but more than 500 years ago. It's confirmed by Ursula herself. And, somewhere in the 16th century, she moved to what's now North Carolina. She lived there for some time."

"What was in North Carolina around that time?" Cordelia said. Although she knew quite well about the history of witchcraft, world history wasn't her forte.

"Hold on," the brunette said, and picked up her laptop. The sound of the keys felt too loud in their frustrations. "Some spanish colonies," she said.

"Any British colonies?"

Short silence followed, as Zoe scrolled the website down on the screen.

"Roanoke colony," the brunette said, ". . . and it's the only British colony."

"Wasn't there a TV show about that colony?" Queenie said. "Like, some ghosts of the Lost Colony return to this realm during the Blood Moon and kill people?"

Zoe's face lit up. "There was a witch on the show, too."

"It's just a TV show," the Supreme said. "You can't possibly believe in all of the stuff."

"But, people actually died there, didn't they?" the brunette said. "The couple that owned the house and the actors on the show. Even some of the crew died, too, I think."

The Supreme drew her brows together. "Look, it's a tragedy. I know, I read upon it. And some of them did die under suspicious circumstances. But there's no actual proof that ghosts or a witch were responsible for the carnage." She stopped walking for a moment, and sighed. "Back on the track, please. What's more?"

Queenie took Zoe's notes. "The name Ursula Knares is most likely to be fake."

"And she claims to be knowledgeable about astronomy, arithmetic, and geometry," Zoe said, looking at the same notes.

Cordelia chewed on her lip. "Astronomy . . . It may have something to do with the ring she let Misty borrow."

"An actual piece of the sun?" Queenie said.

"There's no way of knowing the true value of it. But it definitely symbolizes the sun."

None of them had any more to comment on this issue. They fell quiet, while Cordelia's mind had a swarm of blurry thoughts.

"Alright," Zoe said, now with her notes back in her hands. "She hates water and fish." She looked up at Cordelia, then. "I was cooking salmon for Kyle this morning, by the way, and she yelled at me. She almost fainted on the spot. I don't know, it might have been just acting."

"What's up with her vengeful loathing towards seafood?" Queenie said. "It's too extra to be just a personal preference. Maybe she has rabies, or a terrible experience in the ocean."

"Like, drowning?" Zoe crossed her arms in front of her chest. "It might be a shipwreck or something like that, when she came to this country."

But the crease between Cordelia's brows only deepened. "It's possible, though it still doesn't explain what she said, that water hurts her."

"Maybe it triggers psychological pain?"

"Or she will melt like Elphaba," Queenie said.

The brunette threw her a look of troubled puzzlement. Only with her eyes, she sought assistance from Cordelia, but the Supreme couldn't care less.

"Zoe," Cordelia said, "could you see the symptoms of rabies in humans?"

Queenie raised her brows. "Wait, seriously?"

"At this point, no possibility sounds too absurd to be true."

"Just one sec," the brunette said. She bit her fingernail, then, just like the Supreme. "Infected people will be hyperactive and display erratic behavior. The symptoms are insomnia, anxiety, confusion, agitation, hallucination, excess salivation—"

"It doesn't sound anything like that Woman," the Voodoo doll said. "What do you think, Cordelia?"

The Supreme nodded in agreement. "I think we can take rabies off the list."

Queenie became serious once again. "But she's still afraid of water, though, right? We could still use it against her. We could at least daunt her, and if we were lucky, we could weaken her powers. It's three against one. I think we have a good chance."

The Supreme bit her lip, fully aware of her tight frown. Her heart still had thick fog enveloping it, but she nodded. She nodded again, to reassure herself. "Yeah, it might work. It's better than nothing, at least."

"It just occurred to me now, but," Zoe said, with her anxious eyes, "what if all this information was a lie? Not just the water thing, but the whole possibility of her being the first Supreme. I mean, she didn't even fight back in the kitchen."

"Didn't we dismiss that possibility, though?" Queenie said.

"I don't know. Nothing really makes sense."

They all felt quiet, became almost irritated. It was as though they were running in circle. A caucus race. If Zoe's suspicion turned out to be true, then it'd mean they had been wasting time on nothing.

"I hope my gut feeling is right," Cordelia said. "I think she's telling the truth. She gives me the truth, and challenges me to defeat her, mocking me for my incompetence."

So, despite the lingering feeling of self-doubt, Cordelia made a plan. She made Queenie go to the greenhouse, to get a bucketful of water. In the meantime, she and Zoe would take Ursula to the kitchen, where Queenie could sneak back in through the backdoor.

This posed a bigger challenge than getting a bucket from the greenhouse. Cordelia knew this clearly, as they walked through the corridor of the east wing, straight to the guest room.

"How are we going to get Ursula to come to the kitchen?" Zoe said. "Any ideas?"

Truth to be told, Cordelia had no idea, but they could not afford to waste a second. And even though she still felt uncertain, there was some odd confidence co-residing in her. "We'll tell her . . . something about Misty. We'll improvise. There's no need for the specific anyway."

The door of the guest room came into view. Cordelia stood in front of it, and drew in a deep breath. When she raised her fist to knock, however, some muffled sounds came from the other side of the door. She faltered. Then, similar sounds came again, louder and clearer. The blood in her heart froze. Zoe fidgeted by her side, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Cordelia didn't need eyes to see the blush on the brunette's face, as more muffled moans of Misty came. They even heard the name of the Woman moaned out, with such carnality that the Supreme felt nauseous.

With another deep breath, she straightened her back, and knocked. The sound of wood echoed in the empty hallway. After some seconds, they heard a faint rustling sound of clothes, along with murmurs. Cordelia glanced at a nervous Zoe, as the Woman's heels clicked closer.

Ursula answered the door with a calm smile, as though she had expected the visitors. A bright red bathrobe hugged her loosely around her waist. "Miss Goode, how may I help you this time?" she said, as she played with the strings.

Cordelia felt heat creep up her neck. At the sight of the Woman's haughty face, the stormy feelings came back to her. But her turmoil remained well-concealed. She knew, from the patronizing tilt of Ursula's head, that the Woman attributed it to the Cajun's moans.

"We need to talk to you," the Supreme said, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Ursula opened the door a little wider. She raised her brows at Zoe, as though she took notice of the brunette just now. "This must be quite of significance, having two of the Coven's leaders at my door."

"It's about Misty," Zoe said. Despite her attempt at an authoritarian air, her voice wavered.

"Of course." The Woman curled her lips into _that_ smile, showing a bit of her teeth. "Would you like to come in, then?" She took a tiny step back, to let them in.

Over Ursula's shoulder, Cordelia caught a glimpse of Misty lying in bed, naked.

"We'd like to talk to you, actually, without her," the Supreme said. Her cheeks felt warm again. "I don't wish to disturb her in any way. Could you come to the kitchen?"

"Only if you promise me that you won't pin me to the wall this time."

Cordelia did not change her expression.

Ursula laughed. "Of course, it's only a joke. But you must give me some time to change into something else. I'm from a time when this thick material"—she glanced down at the robe—"would've made one feel awfully guarded, but would you believe it, I feel too unprotected now, if you know what I mean, especially with nothing else underneath."

"We'll wait downstairs," the Supreme said, in her business voice that gave away little of her emotions.

Neither she or Zoe spoke, as they descended the stairs, walking into the place of their scheme. The kitchen welcomed them with keen silence and stillness. The sink had no dirty dishes in it, and all the clean dishes sat in their respective places in the shelves.

"It looked like she didn't suspected anything." Zoe heaved a sigh of relief.

"It's too early to relax," the Supreme said. "It was barely the first step."

The brunette gave a haste nod. She walked to the backdoor. The old wooden door squeaked, as she opened it, peeking outside. The head of Queenie appeared behind the window, then she gave Cordelia thumbs-up.

Zoe turned back around to Cordelia. "She's ready."

"Keep the door open," the Supreme said, pulling up a chair at the round table. "The creaking will give her away."

So everything was all set. They waited for the Woman.

Cordelia bit her lip, lost in thought. The image of Misty's naked body, squirming under a white blanket, harassed her mind. The rugged body, the pale skin, the blonde curls sprawling across the pillows. She couldn't shake off the images, her desire, and the morbidity of it all. Her troubled thoughts only paused, when Zoe stood from her seat in agitation. Cordelia hadn't noticed her sitting by her side.

"Do you think we should make tea?" the brunette asked, already scurrying to the stove. "I think she'll ask for a cup." She grabbed the electric kettle, filled it with water. She continued to stare at it, while it boiled the water.

Quite a typical behavior of the girl in her nervousness. And under usual circumstances, the Supreme would have soothed her with calming words and gentle pats on the back. But right now, Cordelia too suffered from immeasurable anxiety. Her heart had a tremor, pulsating in sporadic rhythm. It took all of her to just sit there, and not go insane. She couldn't even blame herself for her _self-centeredness_ in that moment, her complete willful disregard for Zoe's feelings.

And on this edge of breakdown, the little girl in her emerged. The child began to recite, then, the things Misty had said, the reverence in her raspy voice.

 _Yeah, she's my Rhiannon . . . My Rhiannon . . . I'll kill you if you hurt her . . ._

Then, her brain began to produce words of self-doubt. What if this was a huge mistake? What if Misty truly loved Ursula, without magic or anything else? What if Cordelia was on the path to destroying Misty's happiness? Cordelia tried to silence the voices. Pictures of her Cajun with the Woman flashed across her mind. The younger version of herself tugged at her sleeve, telling to give it all up. It might be the best. Even if this attempt resulted in the Cajun despising her and holding grudges against her for the rest of their lives, Cordelia could take it. Anything was worth it if it meant protecting the girl from her demise. But what if by doing this, they drove her to self-destruction? They had no guarantee that the Cajun wouldn't try to follow the Woman.

"Cordelia."

The Supreme broke out of the toxic fog of useless musing. She looked at Zoe in front of the sizzling kettle. The brunette gazed somewhere else. Then, at last, the Supreme became aware of the approaching clicking of heels, already quite close.

"Apologies for the wait," Ursula said, rounding the table. In a tight dress, she sat opposite of Cordelia, with her back facing the backdoor.

At least they wouldn't have to struggle to keep her eyes off the door.

Ursula lit a cigarette. "But you must forgive me," she said. "Your unexpected visit caught us in the middle of something. I couldn't possibly leave the puppy without finishing my business first." Her smirk grew, as she gave Cordelia a suggestive wink.

It roused the fiery repulsion in the gut of the Supreme.

"Misty's sick," Zoe said from the counter. "You shouldn't touch her."

The Woman threw a disinterested glance at her. "She's quite fond of it, that puppy," she said. "She'd do anything for my touch. In fact, I should've made her wait. Such a wasted opportunity. Don't you think so, Miss Goode?"

Still, the Supreme gave no response. The harassing self-doubt melted. She now grew certain again, that by defeating the Woman, she'd bring true happiness to her Cajun.

As she scowled at Ursula, she saw Queenie come in, with a gigantic bucket in her hands. The Voodoo doll wobbled, and could only walk slowly, careful not to let the water slosh. They needed to buy time.

Zoe took one step forward the Woman. "She's not in the normal state to make decisions for herself. You're taking advantage of it. What you're doing it nothing but rape."

This remark seemed to intrigue Ursula, if not displease her. For a split second, the crimson lip of her curled slightly. She regarded Zoe with a sweet smile. "You make an interesting point, little girl. But tell me, what is the definition of _a normal state of mind_? If you question her decision making ability, go ask her. She'll tell you I had never forced her into sex, or a kiss, like you did, Miss Goode."

At that, Cordelia blushed hard. But the humiliation soon turned into hateful rage, as a sense of shame often does. It didn't matter if Misty had told her about it. What mattered was that the Woman knew about it, and used it to mock her. She gritted her teeth, her hands balled up into fists on her lap. The muscles around her eyes twitched, a warning sign of angry tears.

Ursula's eyes remained playful on the Supreme. "Don't look at me like that. You make me nervous." Her hand went up to the scarf around her neck, loosening it.

At that moment, the electric kettle made a snapping sound, as the water reached its boiling point. Zoe, who still stood next to it, flinched with a quiet expletive.

"Make me a cup of rosehip tea, little girl, will you?" Ursula said, then smiled at Cordelia. "Your gaze leaves me quite thirsty."

And it was when Queenie finally came to stand behind her. She raised the bucket, and said, "Then take a fucking sip!"

Ursula only had enough time to turn around. The dirty water splashed right on her face, drenching the entirety of her figure. It splashed all over the table as well. Cordelia had stepped back, and avoided the victimization.

For the first time, they heard Ursula let out a yelp— But that was all.

Cordelia observed the Woman, frozen, sort of in shock. For some unknown reasons, she had expected Ursula to melt into a puddle, and when the figure of her remained solid, it bewildered her.

"Cordelia!" Queenie shouted.

The eyes of the Woman flashed at her at the same time.

The following ten seconds was a picture of pure chaos. The kettle flew across the room, drawing an arch in the air. The boiling water splashed about. The two council members flew, too, and hit the wall and fell to the ground. The water droplets on the round tale dried up at an alarming rate, and all of a sudden, a huge fire bursted out. The deafening sound of fire alarm rang out.

In the midst of this mess, Ursula looked Cordelia from the other side of the burning table. The Supreme put her in invisible shackles. The Woman, however, broke these restraints off without breaking a sweat, as though it was just yarn around her wrists and ankles. The next moment, Cordelia felt her own body move of its own accord, to the kitchen counter. Her hand pulled a fruit knife out of the knife block. The strength of her grip turned her knuckles white around the handle. She held it with both of her hands, then held it backwards. The sharp metallic point caressed the skin of her throat, sending chills down her spine. Her hands didn't listen to her own commands.

She heard Queenie and Zoe shouting, along with the fizzing sound of a fire extinguisher.

"I got this!"

"I'm going to evacuate the building!"

"Make sure Chelsea is safe. She's pyrophobia!"

Ursula's heels clicked against the wet floor, as she walked to the frozen Supreme. The tip of the knife pressed slightly harder into her flesh.

"Such a pity," the Woman said. Her voice no longer had the fraudulent sweetness. There was only blatant disdain. "What a tragedy. A brainless creature like you is the head of the tribe that I gave birth to." She held her arm in front of Cordelia, then. Some red spots covered the pale skin now, and it expanded to the shoulder, even to the neck under her scarf. "Well, salute to you, however," she said. "You gave me rashes. The chemicals in the water are quite hostile to my sensitive skin to begin with, and your servant managed to get a bucketful of germ-infested water."

Then, it finally hit Cordelia. "You tricked us."

"I must admit it was entertaining, like watching a fly hover over a fire. But I never thought you'd actually plunge yourself into it."

The knife dug a little deeper in her neck.

Ursula bought her mouth close to Cordelia's ear. "Are you frightened? How does it feel to stand at death's door? It must feel exciting. I'll never be able to experience that euphoria myself."

Outside the room, many sets of feet shuffled across the floor, as the girls descended the stairs. Some small ones were wailing, while others talked loudly at one another. Corelia hoped none of them would wander in here. The Supreme, the powerful leader of the Coven, being mind-controlled to hold a knife against her throat, wouldn't be a positive image to witness.

In spite of her wish, however, she heard some footsteps coming in. Labored breathing also reached her ears.

"Ursula, what are you doing?" The feeble voice of Misty came. She staggered closer to them, and stood between the two Supremes. "Ursula, why are you doing this? Let her go." But even as she spoke, it sounded like her energy was slipping out of her mouth.

"She attempted a coup against me," the Woman said. "A dog that bites the hand that feeds should receive proper punishment."

"No, no, no." The Cajun shook her head. And this action seemed to have made her dizzy, as she fell into the arms of the Woman. "Please don't hurt her. Please. Please," she said it like she was talking in her sleep. She then slid down, collapsed on the ground.

"Misty!" Cordelia tried her hardest to break off this Concilium, but she remained powerless, as the curly hair of the Cajun tickled her foot.

Ursula let out a sigh of annoyance. It was only then that the shackles come off. The Supreme put down the knife. She looked down at her feet, and found the unconscious girl there, with her lips almost purple.

"Misty!" She knelt down, but the Woman moved with more swiftness.

The limp body of Misty seemed too light, as Ursula picked her up, bridal-style. Her eyes locked with Cordelia's. The water must have gotten in her eyes, too. They were bloodshot, as red as the eyes of a mad woman.

"She's not dead. Yet." Ursula took one step closer to Cordelia. "Tick-tack," she said, and left the Supreme in the midst of the shambles.

ooOooOoo

The only thing that consoled the Supreme was that the fire only damaged a small part—the very center of the room, but still a small area—of the kitchen. None of the girls got injuries from it. Although it required some time and effort to calm them down, especially the small ones, Cordelia felt lucky enough.

She declared indefinite cancellation of all classes, and gave them a clear order. The students must stay in their respective rooms, while the teachers must stay with the most vulnerable. They had no other options. Although the girls only received limited information about the current situation of the Coven, they knew better to obey the Supreme without a question.

After some more reassuring words and gestures, Cordelia and the council members left the girls to other teachers and Kyle. They went to hold another meeting in Queenie's room. They all looked distraught beyond description, their hair disheveled. The majority of Queenie's skin and clothes were covered in the white powder of the fire extinguisher. Zoe had some minor burns from the boiling water. Cordelia hastened to heal the burns, while the Voodoo witch took a quick shower.

"Your neck is bleeding," the brunette said.

Cordelia covered it with her hand, with a sense of shame nudging her on the inside. "I'm alright. But I'm afraid we don't have much time left anymore."

"Yeah, that Woman is getting out of hand." Queenie walked out of the bathroom in clean clothes. "She could've set the entire building on fire if she wanted to."

"Yes, but that's not what I meant," Cordelia said. "I mean, Ursula said that we were running out of time. But I think she meant little time left for Misty, not for us."

"What's that mean?" Zoe said.

Queenie sat in the bed. "Well, Misty's getting weaker by the day, so . . ." She didn't dare to finish her sentence.

"But she has the power of resurrection," Zoe said. "She can bring herself back even if she dies, right?"

Cordelia's heart beat in an uncomfortable rhythm. "If the cause is within reason. This feels different from being burnt at the stake or running out of oxygen." Then, she remembered the Almond Milk incident, the gash on her forehead that she had failed to heal. "I think her powers are diminishing," she said. "She shouldn't be looking like a skeleton otherwise."

Zoe shuddered once, and shrank her body.

"Either way, that bitch's out," the Voodoo doll said, as she read Zoe's notes with a grimace of concentration. She pointed her forefinger at one place in the paper. "She seems to like blood . . . A vampire?"

The brunette furrowed her brow. "But they are fictional creatures."

"So were we, until the Coven went to public."

Cordelia took no part in this exchange, as she walked to and fro. "She said that," she said, "Misty's happiness is a matter of life and death."

"Sounds shady as fuck," Queenie said.

"Yeah, she's doesn't seem so capable of caring about another human being," Zoe said.

The Supreme nodded a few times, deep in thought. She stopped walking, then, and bit her fingernail. "What if Queenie's right?"

"What? Vampires?"

"No," Cordelia said, with some kind of lightness in her voice. "You said that one has to make sacrifice. Small, frequent sacrifices, in order to attain immortality."

"Right, like Marie Laveau," the Voodoo doll said.

"What if Misty's another sacrifice of her?"

Zoe tilted her head. "How does that explain the 'Misty's happiness is the most important?'"

"Maybe her happiness _is_ the sacrifice," Cordelia said. "Her life energy. This explains her drastic weight loss, and her inability to heal herself."

Queenie let out a hum of semi-approval, as she contemplated. "And how are we going to defeat that Woman? Defeating her can't be accomplished if we have no idea who or what she is."

"You haven't figured out what the rune on her neck symbolizes?" the Supreme said.

"No. I'm trying, though."

Cordelia felt the beginning of optimistic hope fade away. Queenie had a point. All these theories wouldn't mean anything, wouldn't help them in the slightest, without a means to defeat the Woman. That accursed rune. The thing that had started this all. It could be the key to the emancipation of the Cajun.

"We don't have much time," Cordelia said to Queenie. "Find it out, even if you had to rely on Papa or whatever dark entities you could think of. But don't put your own safety at risk. We need you, as much as we need Misty."

The Voodoo doll nodded. But the way she raised her brows told Cordelia that she didn't take the second part of the command seriously. Of course, Queenie would risk her own life to save her sister witch.

The Supreme felt a sense of guilt, as this notion relieved her.


	6. Chapter 6

While Queenie did more in-depth research, the other two witches gave her some space. The Supreme even enchanted the whole room of her, so no noises would disturb her. They proceeded to go to the kitchen, then.

The remnants of the fiasco remained untouched. The rubbles had an invisible KEEP OUT tapes around it. Cordelia undid the tape, and with her telekinetic power, carried the burnt table out to the front yard. Behind her, Zoe followed, as she, too, levitated two broken chairs. In the corner of the yard, near the mass grave of the Halloween Zombies, they piled the furniture up.

"We need to buy new ones," Cordelia said, casting her gaze down.

"Yeah," Zoe said. A deep sigh escaped her lips. "We underestimated her powers. She really outdid us."

The wind blew, and it carried the smell of burnt wood to Cordelia's nose. She had an inkling, in that moment, that every time she smelt a similar scent from now forward, she would remember today, remember her failure.

"I mean, I don't get it," the brunette said. "What was up with the water thing? It didn't do anything."

"She was allergic to the chemicals in the water, but it was nothing serious. She just exaggerated it, so we'd think we had something on her."

"So it really was a lie." The brunette's shoulders slumped. But she looked up after a moment, quick, as though thunderstruck. "Hey, what if her ring had some kind of power? The one that symbolizes the sun? What if it's the source of her immortality?"

Cordelia bit her lip in contemplation. "It's never occurred to me," she said. "But, she lets Misty wear it. If it was so vital to her, wouldn't she be anxious to keep it on her all the time?"

"Maybe it can't be destroyed that easily?"

Although it was not the most promising idea, giving their circumstances, Cordelia had to give it a shot.

"Okay," she said. "We will see if there's any record on magical stones of immortality. We have to be quick, though, and careful. Another failure, and we might put all of the girls' lives in danger for real."

As she spoke, Kyle came to the rubbles, with some burnt legs of the table. Since he didn't have any magical powers, he had to carry them with his hands. The front of his butler suit was black with soot.

"Thank you, Kyle," the Supreme said. "Just put them somewhere near the pile. You could've told me there were more. I would've taken care of them."

The boy gave a simple benevolent smile. "This is my job, Miss Cordelia. I need to have this jacket washed today anyway." He put down the wood, and patted his hands and jacket clean.

It was when a moth flew over their heads, and landed on the rubbles. Although Zoe waved her hand in earnest, recoiling in disgust, the winged bug only flapped its wings.

"Mother Shipton Moth!" Kyle said. He slowly scooped up the bug with his forefinger. The moth rested on his finger without alarm. The utmost joy on his face turned the butler into a child at once.

"That's a funny name for a moth," the Supreme said. She went closer to it, taking a good look.

The bug had a pattern, as unique as its name, on its wings. On each of the cream-colored forewings was a marking that resembled the profile of a human face, looking towards each other.

"It's the same moth that I saw in the greenhouse," she said. "And it must be the one the girls complained of, too."

"You said Misty had brought the eggs from the swamp, right?" Zoe said.

Cordelia gave a nod.

"Oh, I don't think so," Kyle said. "They only live in the U.K. See the pattern? It looks like an old lady's face, with the hooked nose and the sharp chin. That's why they named it after a witch. I don't know how it's ended up here—"

Cordelia looked up. "A witch?"

"Yeah. I read it in the encyclopedia of insects. Zoe bought it for me."

But his exciting information didn't quite reach the ears of the Supreme, as she again bit her fingernail in thought. "And you said it only lives in the U.K.?"

The boy nodded.

"What's it called again?"

"Mother Shipton moth."

The Supreme, then, turned to Zoe. "Do you have your smartphone? Could you search for the moth?—Actually, no. Search for just 'Mother Shipton.'"

"Hold on." The brunette pulled her phone out of her jeans pocket. Her thumbs moved across the screen. She kept repeating the name under her breath.

Cordelia returned her gaze to the moth on Kyle's finger. It flew away at last, and the boy let out a disappointed grunt.

"Ah, Cordelia?" Zoe said. "I'm on the wikipedia page of the woman, and"—She breathed out quickly—"I think we hit the bull's-eye."

Her heart began to pound. "Read it aloud to me."

And the very first word spoken proved the guess of the brunette right.

"Ursula Southill"—Zoe cast a quick, loaded glance at her—"better known as Mother Shipton, is said to have been a prophetess. Born in 1488, in Knaresborough, Yorkshire." She looked up again, shaking her head. "She wasn't even trying to be subtle."

"Does it say anything about her connection to the sun, water, or any other stuff?"

The brunette scrolled down the page. There was a deep crease between her brows, as she gave it a quick read. She sighed, then. "Nothing even remotely related," she said. "Let me look at other websites."

At the same time the girl looked down at her phone, however, they heard someone whistle somewhere above them. Cordelia looked up, and saw Queenie on the balcony, beckoning them over. Without a word, she waved her hands this way and that. A full-blown smile on her face.

"Kyle, is it okay if I ask you to sweep the floor of the kitchen?" the Supreme said.

They boy smiled and nodded.

And when he retreated with the mission, she transmuted to Queenie's room. As Zoe, too, appeared in the room, the Voodoo doll scurried back in from the balcony, and drew the curtains close.

Zoe told her about their latest discovery in detail.

"Holy shit. I found something, too," Queenie said. Then, she went to her bed, and grabbed an old book that lay next to the pillows. "You said that Misty is a sacrifice for her immortality, right?" she said to Cordelia. "And it got me thinking, that Woman has to have some entity to make the sacrifice to. Marie Laveau had a deal with Papa Legba. That Woman must, too. That's how sacrifice works. And I thought, what if the mark on Misty's neck wasn't a rune, but some kind of a sigil?" She then opened the book to the other two. In the left upper corner of the pages, there was a symbol, similar to the one in question.

"It's pretty close, but not the same," the Supreme said.

"I know, but this book was written like centuries ago. And it's not strange for symbols to evolve, having their designs and meaning altered over time. It's a language. Languages evolve, and I'm certain this is what we're looking for. How? Hear this— This sigil symbolizes lust. Not love. Lust."

A puzzled grimace remained on the face of Cordelia. "Does it belong to a certain entity?"

"The book says no. But I found it." The Voodoo doll grabbed another book off her nightstand. With a dramatic air, she opened it to the pages with a monochrome illustration of a weird-looking creature.

At first sight, one's eyes might recognize the face of a human man in the center of the image before anything else. It had a crown on its head. But, it was the only part of the image that possessed any resemblance to a human. Out of the human mouth came out what seemed to be a blow of fiery air. It had the head of a cow on its right, while the head of a sheep occupied its left side. Those three heads sat on the body of an animal that looked like a lion. A lion with the neck of a snake, and the tail and wings of a dragon.

"Asmodeus," Queenie said with a sense of pride. "A king of demons, and represents one of the seven deadly sins. Guess which one it is."

"Lust," Zoe said without hesitation.

"Correct. He instructs men in the art of geometry, arithmetic—"

"And astronomy," Cordelia said. "This demon is the source of Ursula's eternal youth." She felt a certain kind of exhilaration, like right before one crosses the goal line in a race, knowing the gold medal is theirs.

"And does it say how it can be defeated?" the brunette said.

Queenie looked down at the book. "Well, in the book of Tobit, this dude haunts a girl and kills her seven husbands, consecutively." She gave them a suggestive look. "Then, another man marries her. But he's got the holy protection from the angel Raphael, who instructs the husband to place a fish's heart and liver on red-hot cinders and produce vapor. The smell drives the devil away."

"That's why she hates seafood," Zoe said, quite pensive. "But how come it didn't drive her away when I cooked salmon?"

"Because it wasn't placed on red-hot cinders or producing vapor most likely," Cordelia said, "or because it was just a slice of meat without organs. Either way, it still made her sick, true to the texts. I think we have a good shot with this."

"Do we have any fish right now?" the Voodoo doll said. "I think we have to go buy it."

The three of them went down to the kitchen, where Kyle was mopping the floor. The fridge had no fish, or any type of seafood. So, the Supreme gave Zoe a twenty-dollar bill, and made her drive to the nearest seafood restaurant in downtown. It was much closer to the closest Wal-Mart.

"You can give them the whole twenty bucks if they ask," Cordelia said, as she walked the brunette out of the house. "Just get a whole raw fish— Make it two, actually, just in case."

"Can I use magic, if the situation calls for it?" the girl asked.

"Absolutely."

It was not the time to worry about the respect from the society. Raw fish. That was more important. It would save the life of Misty, and bring back the dignity of the Supreme to Cordelia.

ooOooOoo

Zoe returned to the academy in less than five minutes. The tires left skid marks on the driveway, as the car stopped with a loud squeak. She hadn't even buckled up. God only knew how many more traffic regulations she had broken. But even if the brunette had come home with a police car tailing her, the Supreme wouldn't have hesitated to act like Fiona this time.

At the kitchen counter, Cordelia—the only one of the torio with the slightest skills of gutting fish—held the knife. Shivers ran down her spine at the feeling of the knife handle in her grip, and the glint of the sharp metal. The small puncture wound in her throat pulsated. She had to hold the knife tightly, to fight the urge to drop it. The girls didn't need to learn about her fear. She'd have plenty of time to deal with her trauma later. Not a single second could be wasted right now.

It only took them a few minutes to get the essential organs. Around the same time, Queenie joined them, with cinders from the fireplace, still sizzling. They placed the smoldering cinders in a pan.

"Did the book of Tobit say we could put the cinders in a pan?" Zoe said to Queenie.

"If you want to hold them with your hands, be my guest."

Cordelia grabbed the bowl of the fish organs. "Are we ready, girls?"

The air grew tense around them in a flash, so silent that she heard Zoe gulp next to her.

The brunette looked as though she stood at hell's gate. "Are we sure we want to just drive her away? The smoke can't kill her, right?"

"We'll see," the Supreme said. "Our top priority is to free Misty from her curse. Remember that."

And in the grave silence, they marched upstairs. The students obeyed the Supreme's order, and stayed in their rooms, leaving the halls absolutely empty. The faint sizzling of the cinders filled the air. Cordelia hoped, as they stood at the door of Ursula, that the door would shut the noises out. No sound came from the inside. Everything was suspiciously quiet.

Queenie gave Cordelia a look of doubt. "Are they in there?" she mouthed.

None of them felt certain enough to proceed to the final step. A rushed move could only reveal their card to the Woman, though they had no time to come back later, either. At last, Cordelia took a shaky breath, and brought her ear quite close to the door. She made sure not to touch the door, for fear of making the door creak under her weight. Her core muscles tightened, as she stayed in this awkward position for about half a minute.

Then, a distinctive creaking sound of a door came from the inside, followed by feather-light footsteps. Cordelia straightened her back, and looked at the girls. They all heard it.

After a synchronized nod of assurance, they placed a towel on the floor, close to the gap under the door, put the pan on it, and the fish organs on top of the cinders. They looked at each other, and exchanged nods again. Zoe rekindled the cinders with Pyrokinesis, and in a few seconds, fishy smoke came to rise. She crouched down before it, then, fanning and sending the smoke into the room.

This achieved the desired outcome immediately. Ursula fell into a violent fit of coughing, which sounded to only exacerbate by the second. But then, the sound grew somewhat distant. Her footsteps shuffled away from the door. The witches outside heard a fwip of the curtains, and the metallic squeak of a door being pushed open. The coughs now sounded even further away.

"She went onto the balcony," the Supreme said. She tried to turn the doorknob, but it didn't budge. The use of magic didn't help, either. "The lock is enchanted. Zoe, keep fanning. Queenie, come with me."

Not waiting for a reply, she strode to the door next to the guest room. Again, without any form of politeness, she barged into the room of four frightened teenagers. The Woman's coughing now grew feeble, like that of an elderly person who doesn't have enough lung capacity to cough properly.

"Go to another room," the Voodoo doll said to the girls. "Tell other girls not to come out onto the balcony."

The groans of agony now resonated, as the Supreme stepped out. She now stood some feet away from her nemesis. But it was not the young, beautiful Woman with a haughty air that welcomed her. It was a small creature, writhing under a red blanket.

"What is that?" Queenie said behind her.

And as though their footsteps hadn't given their presences away, the small red thing jerked at this utterance. It turned around. Its glimmering dark eyes found Cordelia. And at this moment, the Supreme understood what she was seeing— An old woman, with her skin wrinkled and droopy like curtains, in a red bathrobe. Codelia had never even imagined humans could look that ancient. _A living mummy_ , she thought. It seemed like even breathing deprived the Woman of energy, as she drooled like a mad dog.

"Oh, fucking hell no," the Voodoo doll said.

Ursula looked down at her her skeletal hands, and trembled even harder. "What have you— What have you done!?"

In these screams, Cordelia heard the bell of triumph toll. "This is it, Ursula Southill. This is your end."

The old Woman covered her face with her hands, writhing more in apparent anguish.

"You see, you are a powerful witch," the Supreme said, "but you're too proud. And because of your pride, you spoke of your identity, let the insects named after you fly around. Well, you underestimated me, though I warned you."

"Stupid, stupid girl!" Ursula bared her teeth.

But this no longer interested Cordelia, who walked past the diminishing Woman and went into the guest room. The smoke still came in through the gap under the door. In the thin fog, she found the Cajun lying in the bed, as still as a corpse.

"Misty." The Supreme rushed to her. "Misty, it's me. Can you hear me? Wake up. Please, wake up."

The body of the girl felt like ice, despite the summer weather. Her eyes were open, but did not appear to see anything.

Cordelia felt her world crumble before her eyes. "No, don't— Don't leave me." The lump in her throat made her voice hoarse. "I love you. I love you. God, please—" Her hands trembled, as she cupped the freezing cheeks of the Cajun.

Even at her death, Misty Day looked beautiful.

The Supreme leaned forward, her lips hovering over the girl's. She breathed her life into Misty. She gave and gave, way more than the amount considered safe. Her head began to spin. Beads of cold sweat covered her neck. She collected the bedsheets in her fists, as her consciousness began to slip away. And if Zoe hadn't opened the enchanted door and come running in to stop her, Cordelia would've given the Cajun her entire soul.

"Stop, Cordelia. You're going to kill yourself." The brunette forced their bodies apart.

The Supreme, though on the brink of fainting, struggled in the strong arms. "Let me! I'd rip my heart out if I could save her!" Tears streamed down her face, spattering about as she fought against the restraint.

"Hey, what's going on?" Queenie came rushing in from the balcony.

At that moment, the chest of Misty heaved a little, her eyelashes fluttered.

Cordelia saw it. "She's alive!" She almost collapsed by the bed, and took the cold hand in hers. "We are here, Misty, for you. Do you hear me? Hang on tight—" Her eyes flew to Zoe and Queenie above her. "Give her some life. We can save—"

The grip of the Cajun's hand became quite tight on Cordelia's all of a sudden. Cordelia looked down. It felt like it'd crush her bones. Misty's white lips moved, and they all fell into an attentive silent.

"Ursula . . ." Misty said. And as though to fade away with the name of her lover, she closed her eyes slowly. A single tear rolled down her temple. Her grip on Cordelia grew weaker and weaker, and became completely listless.

The Supreme put a timid hand on the still body, and gave her a shake. "Misty? Misty!"

No response came. Not even a twitch of a finger.

Queenie hastened to perform Vitalum Vitalis on her, and Zoe did the same after her. But the body remained lifeless. A nauseating silence surrounded them.

"Holy shit," Zoe said. "Can she be really dead?"

The Supreme felt her teeth clatter, and her whole being tremble. The little remaining hope that had kept her world together vanished without a sound. Like a dream, everything slipped through her fingers in a flash. She held the limp body close, the same way she'd done seven months ago, at the Seven Wonders.

She lost her. Again.

Outside the bubble of her wailing, Cordelia heard the Voodoo doll inform the demise of Ursula. The old witch had turned into dust, and now only the red bathrobe remained on the balcony.

"Listen, Cordelia," Queenie said in the gentlest tone. "She and the demon will never bother us again. You protected the girls."

The Supreme only gave an automatic nod, as her eyes traced the outline of Misty's still perfect face.

ooOooOoo

Cordelia spent the next four days in the guest room, with the Cajun in the bed. Not to mourn, though, as everyone, including the Supreme herself, had expected she would. In fact, Misty brought herself back a day after the calamity, gasping for breath.

It happened in the middle of the night, and it scared the hell out of Cordelia, who had cried herself to sleep in the couch. But when it dawned on her what just happened, she forgot about everything else, and leaped forward. In the absence of light, she slid her fingertips across the skin of Misty, and felt human warmth. And as her cheeks became soaked with tears, Misty wiped the tears away with gentle strokes of her thumb. They did not hug, utter a word, or see each other's faces, but these faint touches gave the Supreme the lifetime of happiness.

"I'm so sleepy," the Cajun said.

She went back to sleep right after this, and continued to sleep like a log for another day.

The Supreme practically moved her office to the guest room, in order to concentrate on taking care of her sleeping beauty. She even cancelled some important interviews and meetings. But anything she could do without leaving Misty on her own, she did with a high level of productivity.

If she was being honest, she ached to move the girl to the master bedroom. The guest room held too much toxicity. After this whole calamity had a proper conclusion, whatever it might be, she would take down the walls, and change all the furniture, removing the scent of the Woman from every molecule. But for this moment, she felt too scared to even lay a finger on Misty. She felt like the girl would disintegrate, if she disturbed her sleep.

Fortunately, this painful setback came to an end sooner than they feared, as Misty woke up from her 48-hour slumber at last. Cordelia helped her take a bath and change into new clothes. For the first time, she laid her eyes on the naked body of the girl. But the situation was far from sensual, and it only tormented her to face the wretchedness. Her Power of Resurgence couldn't seem to restore all the lost necessary fat to her body. Every time she moved, the bones moved under her skin like another creature. The only respite for the heartbroken Supreme was that Misty's eyes looked at her with clarity.

As planned, Cordelia transferred her to the master bedroom. It was this afternoon that she finally allowed a visit from Queenie and Zoe.

"Go gentle on her. She's still weak," the Supreme said to the council members, letting them in.

Despite this clear instruction, a certain Voodoo doll pulled the Cajun into a tight hug. The eyes of Misty widened at the strength, almost looking like they'd pop out of her head. Some inhumane sounds came out of her mouth.

Cordelia had to pull Queenie away. "What did I just tell you?"

"I can take a few hugs, Miss Cordelia. It's alright." Misty gave a lopsided smile.

Queenie didn't seem the least apologetic. With Telekinesis, Queenie moved the couch from the center of the room to the bedside, and took a seat. "Some hellish nightmare you just went through, flower child. You look finer than I thought, though."

"I do feel fine," Misty said. "Miss Cordelia's been taking care o' me."

Zoe sat next to the Voodoo doll. "Do you remember anything?"

"I remember everything," the Cajun said, with a slight grimace. "I was myself the whole time. Ursula never actually manipulated me. She just . . . planted somethin' in me, like a seed o' Love. And everything I did, I did it because I loved her." Her eyes found Cordelia standing a little away from the three of them. The grimace grew a rather dejected one. "I knew what was going on with me. I knew you were trying to save me, and why you were doing it. I just didn't care. Being with her was more important."

"A seed of Love, huh?" Queenie said. "Why bother with it, though? Isn't it much quicker to mind-control you?"

"It wasn't just that. She needed my happiness. My life was the source o' her eternal youth and beauty. And the happier I was, the more she could gain from me."

"But you almost died," Zoe said.

The Cajun grew quiet, and seemed to think about it. But she simply shrugged. "It didn't matter. I would've come back endlessly, like Ouroboros. She told me herself, that's why she chose me."

"Ouroboros?"

"A Greek mythological symbol for eternal return and cyclicality," Cordelia said.

Misty nodded. "I was born with this Power of Resurgence, to give her eternal life, and live with her forever."

"But why didn't you heal yourself sooner before you died," Queenie said, "if you had the power to bring yourself back from death?"

The Cajun dropped her gaze, fidgeting.

The Supreme detected a look of guilt and shame in her expression. She walked to the bed, and with lingering timidity, rested a hand on the girl's rugged shoulder. "We are not blaming you, Misty."

"I know." The girl showed a momentary smile. She let out a sigh. "Queenie's right. I didn't heal myself even though I knew what was happening. Well— I didn't because I knew. It was what Ursula wanted. My death. And I didn't think twice to give it to her."

The tiny body trembled beneath Cordelia's hand. The Supreme wished she could take her into her arms, and plant kisses on her hollow cheeks and wilted wild curls.

The Voodoo doll continued to wear her grimace. "I'm still confused, though. Why did that Woman say we were running out of time? It's not like you die and remain dead for good like a regular person."

"She said that?" the Cajun said. She bit the inside of her cheek. "I think it was just to torture you guys. She liked watchin' you get agitated, 'specially Miss Cordelia. We were gonna return to the swamp soon, too."

"Do you still love her?" Zoe said.

Queenie threw her a disgusted grimace. "Dude, are you serious right now?"

"I just—" the brunette said. "I just thought it must be hard. Like, what happened to the seed? Is it completely gone?"

It drew a hesitant sigh out of the Cajun. "Don't know. I don't love her anymore, but I kinda do miss her. Like, part o' me died. It feels weird. I'm heartbroken, but kinda relieved at the same time."

"That's how it feels when you get out of a toxic relationship," the Voodoo doll said. "Isn't that right, Cordelia?"

The Supreme eyed her askance, but said nothing. Instead, she slid her hand to stroke the head of Misty, slowly, not to hurt her. The Cajun's body relaxed a little, leaning towards the touch.

"But I now know it wasn't love," Misty said. "She didn't like Stevie. She told me ta fix my accent, to sound more like a _lady_. It was controlling. Love shouldn't look like that." She looked up, and gave Cordelia a delicate smile. "Love is . . . It feels more tender."

Zoe raised a hand. "I have one more question about Ursula. Why did she turn into dust? I thought the fishy smoke would just drive the demon away."

But Misty didn't seem to have an answer, as she looked up at Cordelia.

"When Asmodeus ran away," Cordelia said, "Ursula lost the gift of immortality. And without it, her five-hundred-year old body couldn't avoid the decay and all that came with old age. It's also why Misty was freed from the shackles, the seed of Love, if you want to call it. It was Asmodeus that gave her the sigil on the neck, not Ursula herself."

The brunette nodded, with an anxious crease between her brows, processing the information. She scratched her head, then. "So, we just drove the demon away, and killed the Woman."

"Yes, we did," Cordelia said.

"But we couldn't kill _him_ , like when we killed the Axe man. It means he's still somewhere in the world, doesn't it?"

"He won't bother us anymore," Queenie said. "The book of Tobit states that the fume will keep him away for good."

"Yeah, but what about the rest of the world? He will possess someone again, and more people will fall victim like Misty."

This suggestion put them in a somber silence. None of them had anything positive for a counterargument. Misty looked up at Cordelia again, and held out her hand like a scared child. The Supreme gave the girl her left hand, while the other hand remained on her head. At each gentle stroke she gave, she gained more confidence in the girl's strength.

"Welp, there's no worrying about the future," Queenie said. Slapping her knees, she stood up. "What's important right now is that Misty is safe here with us. If that motherfucker begins to victimize people, that's when we worry."

Zoe gave her a hybrid of a nod and a tilt of her head, trying to convince herself.

The Voodoo doll clapped her hands. "I got an idea. Let's go to French Quarter and have some nice fish. What do you think? Or do you want kebab?"

"I'm not so sure," Cordelia said, and look down at the Cajun. "She needs more sleep."

But the girl herself seemed eager. She straightened her back in a sitting position, as her eyes shimmered with a hint of a smile. "I wanna go. Miss Cordelia, I'm fine." She slid down the bed, let go of the Supreme's hand, and put her hands in the air. "See? I can stand by myself just fine, and I can walk, too." She demonstrated it, walking from one corner of the room to the other, then came back to Cordelia. "Please? I'd feel much better if I breathed fresh air."

And with these puppy eyes, Misty Day made everything possible.

"Fine," Cordelia said, still trying to look stern. "But promise you will tell me as soon as you feel sick."

The Cajun exchanged an excited smile with Queenie and Zoe. The latter two left the room for preparation. Then, the girl stood in front of the full-length mirror next to the vanity. Her fingers fiddled with the hem of her nightgown. Cordelia saw a frown in the reflection.

Her eyes locked with Cordelia's in the mirror. "I need ta change," she said. "I'm looking like one o' these creepy dolls in the attic. What are they anyway?"

"They were Spalding's," the Supreme said. "Perhaps, they still are. We tried to get rid of them, but every time somebody touched or even showed a sign of reaching for one of the dolls, some inexplicable thing happens. Very loud, keen noises and stuff. We just decided to leave them be eventually." She walked in the closed, and returned with a box of the Cajun's belongings. She put it down on the edge of the mattress. "Your clothes are in here."

Misty came to rummage in the box.

"How do you know about the dolls?" Cordelia asked. "We only found out about them after I became the Supreme."

The hands of the girl faltered. "Ursula and I explored the house together on the first day." Redness spread in her cheeks.

It still gave a particular sting in Cordelia's heart. But there was no longer the euphoric smile or the intoxicated tone of her voice, and Cordelia had to find it satisfactory.

She watched closely, as the girl began to lay her things around the box. Most of the dresses looked unfamiliar to the Supreme, who had kept the Cajun's belongings in her closet for seven months, and who occasionally had opened the box just to bring some shawl out, to remember the smell of her fallen sister. With her gloomy gaze, she examined the unfamiliar pieces of clothing. Her eyes travelled up, then, only to find Misty looking back at her with the same kind of gloominess.

"Ain't none of them will do," Misty said, pouting a little. "She bought them dresses for me, and shawls and other stuff. And then she told me what to wear, every day. I couldn't wear that shawl Stevie gave me 'cause she hated the pattern. I don't wanna see any o' them no more."

The Supreme hastened to pick up one blue dress that remained at the bottom of the box. "This is yours, though, isn't it?" She held it out. "I remember you wearing this when you met Stevie for the first time. Well, I've only seen it in my Sight, when you let me."

As Misty took it from her, their hands grazed. She bit her lip, then, fidgeting with the dress. "Do you want me to wear it?" Her voice had childish sheepishness.

"I'm not going to tell you what to wear, Misty. You decide."

"But, do you like this dress? On me?"

The Supreme had to pause, not to sound too enthusiastic about it. "Yes, I think it looks nice on you."

The color of the dress matched her eyes, and when she twirled in it, she truly looked like a Bluebird of Happiness. Cordelia had only seen it once, in her Sight. But the memory remained vivid, she forbade it from fading away. At night, for the past seven months, she used to fall asleep with the image of her Bluebird on her mind. And if she was lucky, the bird sang and danced for her, in her dreams.

Of course, she couldn't bring herself to tell any of this to Misty herself.

"I'm gonna go in this, then," the girl said, and pattered into the walk-in closet to change.

She didn't seem to notice Cordelia's deep thoughts. The Supreme heaved a sigh of relief.

Soft humming came from the closet. As she listened, Cordelia sorted out the belongings of Misty. Her old clothes went back in the box. The Ursula-infested dresses would go straight to a homeless shelter, would feast the eyes of the less fortunate and keep them warm. For now, they sat in the corner of the room in a trash bag. When she finished this task, she sat at her vanity, to reapply her makeup for the girls' night out.

"Miss Cordelia?" the Cajun said from the inside of the closet. "Do you remember what I said to you, about my happiness?"

The Supreme's eyes sought the figure of the girl in the mirror, but only saw the slightly open closet door. "I'm not sure. Could you tell me again?"

"I said you were big part o' my happiness," Misty said. "Do you remember?"

Cordelia saw her own face grow red in the mirror. "Yes, I do." She applied more foundation, in a poor effort to conceal the color of her heart.

"It wasn't a lie. You really are. When I got back from hell, your face came to my mind before anything else, even before I realized I was standing in the middle o' the swamp. And even after Ursula showed up, seein' you still made me extremely happy." Then, she let out a faint sigh. "But, everytime my love for you grew, I felt my love for Ursula grow just as much. And Ursula always came first, by a hair's breadth. It was the seed of Love."

Cordelia put down her makeup tools, looking down. So many thoughts swarmed her mind, too many for her to handle with grace. The rational part of her knew the Woman no longer bothered them and it was over. But she couldn't ignore the big hole this event had bored in her heart. A huge crater that'd remain for a long, long time.

She heard a creaking of the door, then. Looking up, her eyes met Misty's in the mirror, standing outside the closet in the blue dress. They stared at each other. And it was Misty, who glanced down first.

"I'm sorry," the girl said. "I'm sorry I said I'd kill you."

The sting in the heart and the shock of the scene returned to the Supreme. The words started to ring in her ears again.

"It's okay," she said. "You loved her more than anybody, even if it was a curse. I mean, I think I'd do the same for love."

"You would?"

"Well, I actually did, didn't I? I threatened to kill Ursula even though I had no clue how." Cordelia gave a small smile. "All I had in my mind was that I wanted to protect you. So, I understand." She resumed touching up her makeup. If she'd looked into the ocean eyes for another second, she would've burst into tears. But in the mirror, she still could see Misty looking at her.

Misty looked at her, with her lip between her teeth, as though on the brink of tears herself. She stepped closer to the Supreme, but still kept a distance. Her fingers picked at the fringes of her shawl from Stevie.

"You know," the Cajun said, "I remember everything."

"Yes, you told us so."

"No, I mean—" The girl took one more step forward, only to draw back a little. The color of apple painted her cheeks. "I remember _everything_."

The pretty sight made Cordelia flush as hard. And with the pleasant heat, the truth revealed itself. No expensive foundation could conceal the redness of her face now, as her midnight confession and the kisses they'd shared flickered across her mind. She hung her head to hide her face behind her hair.

The Cajun tottered across the room, and crouched down by her. Her gentle hand slowly rose to touch Cordelia's, insisting to be held. Her gaze prickled the skin of the Supreme. And at last, Cordelia turned her head to the side, and found the piercing eyes.

Their body heat travelled through the soft, persistent touch, and the boney hand of the Cajun tightened its hold.

"I didn't lie, when I told you about my happiness," Misty said. "Did you lie, to save me from Ursula?"

Cordelia swallowed. "No," she said. Her mouth opened again, but no more word came out.

And whatever was right on the tip of her tongue, it went back down her throat, as Misty leaned forward, and pressed her lips to hers. Cordelia's instinct brought her hands up to the sunk cheeks of the girl. Everything stopped for a moment. Cordelia tasted the herbal lip balm on Misty's chapped lips. It immersed her in a sweet giddiness.

This was their third kiss, but felt like the first. It should be counted as their first. The first two kisses, shared in despair, didn't even come close to this one. Their lips moved in unison, with equal fervor and hunger. The beginning of moans escaped the back of Cordelia's throat, as she felt her whole body combust. The Cajun's hands came to take hold of her arms, bringing them closer. The Supreme could live in this cloud of giddiness forever, could live with the heat of Misty and nothing else.

But everything that exists eventually comes to an end. It was Misty that pulled away first. With a delicate sigh, she sank to the floor, and rested her head on the lap of the Supreme. Her blonde curls spread across and cascaded down her lap. She closed her eyes. There was a small smile of content tagging at the corner of her lips, as she breathed out again.

Cordelia ran her fingers through the hair. In peaceful silence, she wished she could bring those curls to her lips.

"Miss Cordelia?"

The Supreme hummed.

"I realized something."

"What did you realize?"

The girl lifted her face, looking up at her. "When I'm with you, it's not Rhiannon that plays inside my head. It's Landslide."

"Landslide?"

"Yeah." Misty bit her lip, and flashed a bashful smile. "Landslide . . . You make me wanna get old with you."

 **~END~**


End file.
